#(correction your parents are paying for it because all these people are from the rich part of the state most my friends are NOT from lmao) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sparklyeyedhimbo · 1 year

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this is gonna be a veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeery long post. Open it in another tab or something. This is gonna be like this bird post so be warned

Get yourself some snacks and a drink.

where to begin to start explaining my gear and your gown.

first of all a few trigger warnings: homophobia, violence, under age drinking, parental figure dying, attempted rape*, singing

when you see this shot in episode 10 at 34:55 skip to 36:07 if you can

Let us check out the plot summary now.

IMBD what you got for us

Not much as expected this is like the base plot like the 1% of it all. (kali why are you even looking there. IDK i wanted some VARIATIONS idk)

Let us check MyDramaList they like to give some more meat

...and this is as far as i go down the fires of MDL. Now we have a LITTLE bit more base knowledge.

This is an enemies to study buddies to "friends" to enemies to strangers to friends to lovers story. (very long trope but you will get it)

..with a cast that makes newer and older bl fans go like WAIT THEY ARE IN THIS?

Before we get more into the plot of this story, let me introduce the boys and the gurls and who is who and who is doing what with who. Confused? you are welcome 😎

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Lets start with the MAIN people that this story is about

oh btw the colors mean nothing is just wanted to have some colors in this so it's not just a wall of text

This is pai our little, nearsighted, insecure, introverted and bad with his words boy. That falls head over broken glasses for itt that saves him not once but twice. But he can't really see itts face everytime because his glasses fall off.

He will get rid of his glasses (because of lasik he rich booooy and glasses make people ugly apparently) when he gets older. Will also do everything in his power to make sure that itt gets to live his dreams. With questional techniques to make sure it happens.

highschool!pai: i'm only gonna tutor you so you can get into uni. Pls pang (itts ex girlfriend) get back together with itt so he is more motivated to go back to school, i'm only gonna forgive you if you let me tutor you again.

uni!pai: i lost your trust so ofc you hate me and don't want me in your life i know this. i'm okay to watch you shine from afar

This is itt (badumtiss sorry everytime i have to read this phrase i have to laugh) our angry, can recognize pais handwriting everywhere, ball is life, grumpy and loves to stare at pai boy. Will wear a bowtie when he hits rock bottom.

And will do anything to make sure his boy gets more out of his shell, even tho his techniques are also questionable at best. Its not that bad in highschool but boy does he dial it up to 100 when they are in uni.

highschool!itt: ..pierce your ear you coward [affectionate]

uni!itt: ..you want your earing back? Join the beauty pageant, pai wants to entertain people, pai wants to answer this question, asks pai stupid med question (because he sees that pai feels uneasy talking infront of people) which pai has to correct and make him ease up, etc

IttPai

These two are the main couple in this "masterpiece". Staring at eachother (from afar to near to angry to lovie dovie) and miscommunication are their favorite activities. They both will continue doing these even in uni which will give you the urge to pull your hair out. wich will lead to much unnecessary drama. Because both just want the other one to have their best lifes, because BOTH of these two idiots think they are not good enough for eachother. Can you belieeeeeeEEEeeeeve that? They once go out for some wonton noodle soup because pais parents can't make dinner (it's a date but pshh dont tell them). And thats where pai gets his ugly ass earring. That will be the plot device to move things along.

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Now lets get to know the rest of them.

This is folk, the very tall, handsome, with a little obsession with pai at the start, going to be a dentist and writer boy. Is not so happy that pure always sabotages him and pai. Can quote barbra streisand from the top of his head.

Enters the story right before the timeskip, he gets scolded by pai for reading the number for a classroom wrong and that is what made folk fall hard. Folk meets pai in uni again and uses their "first" first meeting as a pick up line, didn't really land. He will try to forget about pai after that camping trip in uni with a little help of pure *wink*

There is a subplot in the series where there is an Mr.950. You will think Folk is Mr.950 (because that was the number he read wrong) that is giving pai little gifts. But he is not that dude it's itt its always itt kidz.

This is pure very small, loves to fool around, will not use the hecking condoms (gets an "well deserved" std-scare that makes him and waan bond and become real good friends and you try not to ship like the doc that reads out the test waan made pure take, always have protection with you kidz) his sucky mom throws at him because she is as bad as her son when it comes to fool around, will do anything that makes his BFF itt happy, ball is also life, his first love was a coward and let him get beaten up by bullies, and will fall head over heels for a certain dentist boy.

He pushes folk to confess to pai (do it bro or it will be to late), and folk getting brutally rejected by pai. And after that pure and folk drive back to drink the pain away and for pure to "comfort" the poor soul.

folks fish: they were banging. There was so much banging happening

PureFolk

Thank you folk for explaining purefolk, love me this trope when the two people that gonna be together in the end. Tell them stuff like that and ask the other for an answer.. AND IT HAPPENS LIKE THE OTHER ONE SAYS. THEIR SHIP DYNAMIC IS JUST TOLL/SMOLL, enemies to friends with benefits to with a lot of unnecessary drama lovers. ..pure even saves folks face id so folk can unlock pures phone. It was love at first oishi ad scene

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last but DEFENETLY NOT least

This is waan (and his girl beau) second most intelligent, token straight, with no game till he meets beau (at one point you will and want to slap waan for beau because lord he stupid*.), best friends with pai by fate (fate as we are both have the most brain lets be friends) a very kind boy.

*this part of the camp. SHE WAS SO HAPPY AND HE CRUSHES HER HOPES BECAUSE HE THINKS THAT AFTER PURESAID IF HE COULD HELP HER WITH HER, THAT PURE IS GONNA STEAL HER AWAY FROM HIM. *tries to calm down*

...they figure it out after he gets hurt by getting hit by an basketball that Itt was throwing (you have to watch it pls). BUT BOY, what a mess it was thanks pure (but ofc pure only did that to give waan a push to finally stand HIS ground) what i want to say about these two is they are the cutest and i will forever love them

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phew now that we got that out of the way lets go through the plot a bit. Lets just make it some bulletpoints because i want you all that you watch this.

I lied this got out of hand have bulletpoints with all my brain came up with enjoy.

STILL PLEASE WATCH IT.

pai starts his first day of school after 5 years in england. It's his last year in HS. (and trust me you saw me how angy i was with simm and lemme tell you NO ENGLISH WORDS pass pai lips once NOT ONCE) his parents are so busy they won't even eat breakfast with him :(

he gets to school gets hit by a soccer ball, this is were he first meets Itt and after that pai gets announced head of the bishop club (the smartie pants club) because he smort, but he declines at first.

after school and pai and waan are about to get driven home by pais driver. He just looks at waan and runs away. (To this day i have no clue why he does it) He almost gets robbed by thugs in a back alley BUT Itt is here to save the day. Sadly pais glasses break from the run in with said thugs. But no worries itt fixes them with a tape.

back at school pai ask waan if he could find the owner of said tape. But waan will only help him if pai takes on the role of head of the bishop club. So pai accepts this deal.

But as soon as pai said yes, the teacher approaches pai to tell him that the knight club (the sport nerd) lost their building and now are going to get the bishops clubs room, because they got more accomplishments. And his is going to get disbanded.

pai goes to the principal and guess who he meets there? The head of the knights club and it's itt. After talking to the principal and promising him that he will use his connections with his dad to get some activities going. The principal decides that they have to share the room.

after this pai talks to itt infront of the principal office and thanks him for helping him and if he remembers him. itt just tells pai that he doesn't remember people who lik to pull strings.

enter the we are "enemys" now phase, with Itt and his knight club members trying to annoy the bishop club members to leave.

pure takes one of his hook ups into the room and spills some juice and trys to mop it up with some very important papers, waan sees that and they get into a little fight, a projector gets damaged.

waan sees his time as his chance to get the knights out of their room. But he overhears pure and his mother talking and it's not the nice (at this point just throw away the whole mum) in the end he takes the blame for damageing the projector.

because of this situation the teacher tells pai that he has to agree to her proposition that he has to tutor itt or she will disband the bishop club (don't look at me i still have no clue how this makes any sense)

pai agrees and now the whole study buddies era happens. Naturally not without Itt ditching the first lesson, but he had a reason. His mom is in the hospital with sickness (it could be cancer?) and he was visiting her. Pai goes to see his parents that are working at the same hospital itts mum is a patient in. And pai sees itt with his mom and also overhears and sees the argument he has with his father (WHO BRINGS HIS MISTRESS WITH HIM TO HIS DYING WIFE INTO THE TRASH WITH HIM)

because pai sucks at hiding itts sees that he overheard this confronts pai. They make a deal that pai won't say anything about this if itt lets him tutor him. NOW we are entering the study buddies to friends era.

Itts mum finds them studying together and happily demands that they should do these lessons in her patient room. She is really happy and jokes around with pai about her son (first supporter of IttPai)

everything is going great and pai and Itt becoming friends and mayhabs feelings blossoming, they even go eat wonton noodle soup, when pais parents ditch him because of work. And thats where pai gets the gown earring and his ears pierced. When pai gets home is parents are very suprised and shocked about this. (to this day i am confused because of pais parents, their reactions to things are so CONFUSING)

pai proudly wears the earing to their next tutoring session, but itt also invited his girlfriend peng along. Pais new found confidence goes back into the shell.

everything is going to shit at this point (we are only in episode 4 so buckle up) Pai is very cold to itt and even declines the offer to go eat together.

SOMEHOW pai does go to the wonton noodle shop (don't ask me why he decided to go like i just write here what i see for you guys) and sees itt eating there with peng. Pai walks away sad and gets hit by a car.

while this is happening itts mom also not doing so good. She passes away when pai gets hit by the car.

at the same time waan and pure also kind of bond and become friends. After waan sees two people fight over who gets to be with pure. Waan asked pure for help, the both of them go to an cafe and pure tries to teaches waan on how to flirt which back fires and they go out drinking.

on their way back from the cafe waan asked pure why he is the way he is with his relationships. And he drops the my first love was an ass he let me get beaten up by guys so now i don't feel love anymore. (trust me at this point you will go 👀🏳‍🌈 at them)

at the club our little player gets in a fight with someone accusing him on giving their girlfriend HIV.

waan goes looking for pure after he didn't show up for school a few days. He talks to pure and on how important it is to use protection even to it is from your shitty as moms leftovers (this whole scene is very bf coded but alas), waan drags him to the hospital to get a check up.

Where we get this iconic scene

back to pai and itt we are now in another we are no friends anymore era where itt is angry at pai for "not being there when his mom died" even tho he himself was also in the same hospital. Out of fear to lose his home (because shitty dad), itt even tries to drop out of highschool (rock bottom time the is a bowtie involved). Yes i say tries, because not on pais watch is that gonna happen. Pai tries to convince itt that he will earn more money as an engineer then whatever job is is doing right now. (we have a little pai almost getting hit by another car moment but they stare at eachother way to long 10/10) Pai playfully calls itt and idiot if does not show up to their tutoring session the next day.

He even tries to persuade peng to get back together with itt so he has more motivation to go back. But it backfires itt saw how peng was trying to kiss pai. (Just as we thought the drama is over right?)

the boys are "fighting" again but thanks to waan and pure the conflict is set aside very quickly. The four boys are now all friends and have a few nice days/weeks

pai and itt get accidentally locked in school and have to spent a night there where pai loses his earring.

in the morning the teacher calls pai to her office to tell him that he done his part, and that the bishop club now have their room back. Itt finds the earring and was about to enter the teachers room and overhears these two talking. (the real enemy era starting now)

the next day itt confronts pai that he has pais earring and he tells pai that he overheared the conversation with the teacher and pai just yield and begs itt to give him back his earring. Itt will only give it back if pai gives his club the room back. But because pai can't do this he promises to do anythingelse to get the earring back. But itt is not having it and keeps the earring.

folk enters the story at this point he first get scolded by angry heartbroken pai that he should read the room numbers correctly and take school seriously.

folk ruins a hook-up for pure because he tries to give back a pencilcase to the wrong girl.

pai gives notes to pure for itt..but because itt KNOWS pais handwriting he get so angry and goes to pais house to throw these notes at him and yell at him.

all of the boys get into their unis

TIMESKIP WE ARE IN UNI NOW

pai now has no glasses anymore (we get the first sotus call back with them trying to tell the meaning of the letter but JINKS they don't do this anymore..PUuuuh) and we meet beau for the first time and waan totally falls for beau.

this is also when mr.950 comes into play, it's a mystery person that gifts pai little gifts over the next 4 episodes.

pai gets a bit dizzy and almost faints after painting 2 lines of paint but he gets saved by the mystery man mr.950

pai also meets folk again, who straight out flirts with pai. He gets rudly interrupted by pure, who jokingly accuses him of being a player and sleeping around. (lets just say he uses it as a revenge for when folk wanted to give back that damn penicle case to the wrong girl pure was trying to flirt with)

this iconic scene happens after

at the dance thing the freshy have to do, pai has to do a little dance, because itt called out his name and said that he wants to.

folk joins him with the dancing because our dear pai is just to stiff and awkward

pai confronts itt after that event and begs itt to leave him alone.

beau ask pai to become their facultys king for the beauty contest but as always pai declines. (and ofc itt is in earshot and hears it)

we get this little scene where Itt uses the earring to get pai to join the beauty contest.

this amazing purefolk scene happens (it's their Ohhhhhh moment because after that its on....but folk still has his crush on pai)

a photoshoot for the freshy king things happens and pai really isn't feeling all to good on how stiffly and uncomfortable he looks in his pictures. Itt teases pai on how if he keeps doing so poorly on keeping his promise he should say bye bye to the earring, which REALLY riles up pai and he promises that he still has some tricks up his sleeves.(at this point you can feel that itt does these things from a place of love because booooy)

folk casually follows pai to his dormroom (don't worry he also lives there but still i was ehk?) and asked him for an chance to hit on him. Pai answer is "... to have it his way but he stands by as his friend first" (don't look at me i am also confused) Folk uses an even lamer pick up line this time.

folk gets to his room and he meets his neighbour! Guess who it is! ..imma tell you it's pure

waan tells pai that he likes beau but that he knows that she is out of his league (oh broother..noo) and that he is gonna join the freshy competition as a volunteer so he can be around beau. Because thats all he needs to be happy

ITS FRESHY COMPETITION CAMP TIME BEECHES time to get some progress on these couples!

Everytime pai has to do an activity, there is always itt trying to make him feel at ease or do things that help pai feel at ease (asking a stupid med question when pai feels uncomfy when he has to introduce, hurting himself so pai can show how to treat a wound, holds his hand when they have to walk blindfolded) They have a little moment in the tent, like they had back in hs when they where locked up.

waan gets closer to beau and helps her out in camp as good as he can. You could say they kind of flirt with eachother. But this spark of hope is soon put out by pure asking waan at the white band ceremony if could help him flirt with beau. Our boy waan is so defeated that when beau "ask if he wants to hit on her" he is like no..but a friend of mine does. Which in return leaves beau sad and a little heartbroken because she thought waan liked her.

talking about pure, his whole stick this camp is to keep folk away from pai. Or to sabotage them from having any interactions. Pure only urges folk on to man up and to confess his feelings after folk saw that itt and pai was holding hands. He gets rejected by pai

pure and folk drive back together to drink have a little talk and one leads to another and to bring back the fish from earlier

they decide to become friends with benefits (i am at this point that i believe that no one knows what a friend with benefits is because what these two are doing? Is kinguea league of doing it)

back at school pai talks to folk, if he is mad at him because pai heard that folk wasn't feeling so good. Folk ask for some time from pai so he can get over him.

after the meeting for the freshy competition folk just wants to go back and write his novel, but there is pure with other ideas. But folk brushes those ideas off and leaves without pure.

we see yachts character again nickey...we will meet him again and all i can say is with a gif

nickey wants pure to go to a party with him but pure declines with probably the biggest 🥺 while looking after folk.

pure and folk some cute moments while folk tries to write, when pure comes home from a bar, in school, (trust me guys you need to watch it)

folk reads some msg between waan and pure (thats what happens if you save your FWB faceID on your phone and say stuff like i won't keep secrets from you and you act sus buddy) where waan ask pure why he is messing around with folk if he wants to hit on beau and pure the idiot that he is answers that waan should fawn over her and that he going to enjoy folk until he gets tired of him. (put the pitchforks down this will get resolved...somehow)

we are at a basketball match now and pai is standing on the sidelines lost in thoughts. They begin to throw a ball at eachother angrier eachtime.

waan gets hit by a ball that itt throws at pai and hurts his wrist

let me remind you now at the trigger warning from the beginning the one with the door? well thats gonna happen now. I'm no going into detail

back to Itt and pai, Itt comes by to apologize to waan in the hospital but pais not having it and tells itt that from now on that this hatred is no longer one-sided.

all in all the boys are doing great

we finally get an inside look on why itt did the things he did to pai

pure comes clean about his intentions for beau, that he never liked her and that he only saied it to give waan a push. (they get together i mean beau and waan heheheheheh)

a sad heartbroken pure is at a club and gets a little "..Sowwy for you know doing almost a bad thing with you friend :< here have this" gift from nickey. (It's a hook up and oh boy will pure regretti spagetti this but he will punch nickey and make him apologize to folk so theres that but still puuuure whhhhy)

folk and pure talk with eachother and they decide to no longer to be FWB and that they are now going out. Pure has to promise folk that he is going to be his only one.

pai comes by to bring folk some congee and tells folk that he no longer has to refer to himself as mr. 950 BUT SUPRIIIIIIIIIIISE folk never was it. Pure gives pai the tip that it is the number of their old club room in highschool.

pai goes to visit waan in the hospital and waan no longer can keep the secrets he had and tells him everything.

ITS COMPETITION TIIIIIIIME time for our queen to serenade us! (i only just realizing what lyrics she is singing oasdjhjdksad)

everyone is getting ready for the show, the boys show off their little talents. And then there is itt who just goes up to the microphone and gives up. (yet still he wins the popularity vote i am amazed 10/10)

pai sings the song itt played for them when they all where in highschool.

PAI WINS THE HECKING CONTEST

after the competition he meets up with itt infront of the photography club. Itt gives him his earring back and pai asks what the room behind him looks like inside (he doesn't even wait for an okay he just walks in)

BIG DARK BLUE KISS ENERGY *intro plays in the background* with all the photos all over the room (okay they are mostly just pai but okay itt is on this hecking crush for a bit) as they watch a slideshow of pictures of pai they tell how much they love eachother

Itt finally reveals that he is mr.950 and shows pai his own earring he got himself as a memento of pai.

their shipname is brick/white now

they exchance their earrings and FINALLY kiss. But they get rudly interrupted by pais parents and his mother almost fainting.

pais parents are not really okay with their son kissing a boy in puplic and him talking back at them. Pai is so devastated by his parents reaction that he breaks up with itt

pais parents make him change schools back to england? When pai gets to school to pick up the papers he meets itt that does the same. Itt tells him "he only went here because of him" and gives pai back his earring

At lunch with his parents at home pai cracks and just cries and his parents finally see maybe we did something wrong? They even talk to an psychologists.

When it's time to fly back to england?? Pai stops his parents to say to them that he does not want to go. His mother asks him if he is really sure? AND when he says yes with confidence. His father calls out Itts name and itt comes out of his hiding place (imagine pai NOT doing this..the awkwardness oooof)

the parents and itt had a talk and now pai gets to stay and be happy and together with itt (hecking finally and like going to england won't make your son less anxious and gay. Thank the lord they figured that out. Itt is gonna be favorite son-in-law in no time)

pure and folk are back at the hospital, because nickeys little gift well...wasn't as clean as hoped BUT pure is now! So HAPPY ENDING FOR THESE TWO ASWELL

The friendgroup go on a camping trip and all three couples are as disgustingly cute as they can be.

WE MADE IT TO THE END OF THE POST I DID IT

I hope i made you want to watch this show now, or if i already took away everything and you are now nah thanks i am good. And i hope you got the infomation you needed out of this long ass post.

i think i need to rest for a day now

........anyhow it was kinda fun diving into this and keeping my mind busy.

@markpakin @petrichoraline @jyuubin @pajindapat

if i missed anyone that wanted a tag i am sorry but ENJOY

#my gear and your gown #my gear and your gown the series #kali tries to explain ✨#my gear and your gown spoilers #ofc duh #misspellings in there just take them i am not gonna copy and past all of this into google one by one i am already going insane

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basiccortez · 2 years

Note

I have a Rhett request:

Rhett and reader were high school sweethearts but broke up before she went to college and now that reader has graduated, she comes back to her hometown w/ a 3 (if my math is correct 3 1/2?) y/o daughter.

I understand completely if you decide to say no,

I love ur writings !

🧡

"Do I really have to go to church?"

"Yes," Y/N's mother, Mary, answered as she finished fixing her hair in the mirror. Y/N rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall, "You are back home, and no better place for you to be truly welcomed, than back in the church."

"I just really don't want to go. You know people are going to talk," Y/N said and craned her neck to look in the living room. The little girl with bright blue eyes was still being entertained by her uncle.

Mary sighed and turned to face her. There were two reasons why she hadn't stepped foot in Wabang in almost four years, one was sitting in the living room, and the other was tucked away in box she brought back from Texas.

"Can I stay home with Dad?" Y/N asked.

"No. Your father is going. Everyone in this house is going to church, bottom line. Now, is Lydia dressed?"

Y/N rolled her eyes one last time and pushed off the wall, going to the living room. The little girl looked up at Y/N as she walked in, and immediately held her hands out to her. Y/N smiled as she picked her up, and fixed the button up shirt she was wearing. A friend of her's mother had made it for her, it had small cherries on it.

"Grandma is making us go to church," Y/N said to her, "Say 'boo, grandma'." Lydia shook her head and smiled back, "Your momma's nice girl, huh?"

"Yes momma," Lydia responded.

"Dammit, y'all are still here," Y/N's dad, George, cursed as he walked into the house, "Thought I could miss the ride in."

"NO ONE IS MISSING CHURCH!"

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"We should've skipped church," Mary whispered to Y/N, as she tried to pay attention to what the pastor was saying. It was like a magnet had been drawn to the family, and all eyes were on them. They hadn't even shown up late to deserve this kind of attention. But Y/N knew it was partially because of her presence back in Wabang.

Y/N didn't think when she moved four years ago that she would ever come back. Her plan was set in stone; move to Austin, graduate from the University of Texas, find some rich farmer and marry into the family, and never return to Wabang. But life had a funny way of throwing curve balls at her. That curve ball ended up being a daughter of her own.

"Can we go?" Lydia turned and asked her mother.

"No baby, it's almost over, and then you'll go to Sunday school. It's a lot of fun," Y/N said to your daughter, and picked her up from the chair she was sitting in, and put her on your lap. She turned to nuzzle her head into Y/N's neck, trying to stay awake during the service. Her blue eyes looked around the church at the various community members, her eyes locking with a similar pair of blue ones from across the way.

Rhett tried not to stare at them when they walked into church. He was used to seeing Mary and George, and their youngest son Cody, but what he didn't expect was to see Y/N, walking up a beat behind them, with a little girl on her hip. He felt his heart stop in his chest at the sight. The two of them looked like they could be sisters, minus the blue eyes.

"If you don't stop staring, you'll set that girl on fire," Cecelia muttered, "It's impolite and I raised you better than that."

"Sorry," Rhett mumbled, and looked back down at the open bible in his lap for a beat, before looking back over at the two of them. Cecelia huffed in response, closing her bible and looking back up at the pastor.

When the service was over, Y/N and her parents stood outside catching up with some of the locals. She introduced Lydia to them, the little girl would smile at them. Y/N had expected some questionable looks, as she was unmarried and a mother. Y/N was just happy that the kept their comments to themselves for once, knowing how some of the old biddies could get.

"I'm going to take her down for Sunday school," Y/N said to Mary.

"Okay sweetheart," Mary said, "You be good Lydia, and maybe you can help grandma make a pie later."

"'Kay grandma!" Lydia smiled, and you set her down on her feet. She grabbed Y/N's hand as she walked down the steps to the church basement, where all the Sunday school class rooms were. Lydia kept mumbling the words of the last song from the service as they walked to find her class room.

"Oh!" "I'm-" Y/N jumped as she ran into someone. Y/N took a step back and looked at the familiar blue eyes that she was hoping to avoid by skipping church. n

"Rhett," Y/N said. Y/N felt Lydia move to hide behind her, unsure of the man in front of them, "Um, hi."

"Hi," Rhett said, giving her his classic half smile, "How ya been?"

"Good. How have you been? How's your folks?"

"Busy, with ranch stuff. . . riding bulls. Folks are good," Rhett answered, and cleared his throat, looking down at the little girl, "Who's that?" He nodded towards her.

Y/N sucked in a breath, and put a hand on her daughter's head, "This is Lydia. Lydia, can you say hi to Mr. Rhett?"

Lydia said a breathy "hi," and gave Rhett a small wave, still hiding behind her mom.

"She's shy," Rhett smiled, "She don't get that from you."

"Hey!" Y/N exclaimed, with a smile, "No, she definitely gets that from her dad."

"How old are you, sweetheart?" Rhett asked Lydia. The little girl held up three fingers, "That's a big age. Old enough to start school."

"Don't get us started on the school thing. She had a complete meltdown about Cody starting school and her not being able to go with him," Y/N said.

"Now that is you, through and through," Rhett laughed.

Y/N shook her head with a smile, "I better get her to Sunday school," Y/N bent down to pick Lydia up and placed her on her hip, "Say bye to Mr. Rhett, Lyds." Lydia waved to the man as Y/N walked past him. Rhett smiled and waved goodbye to the little girl.

It wasn't until he was sitting in his truck in the church parking lot that it hit him.

"Holy fuck!" Rhett yelled, ". . . that's my kid."

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a/n: REQUESTS FOR RHETT ARE OPEN:) pls send them in

#g's asks #my asks #outer range #outer rang fan fic #outer range fan fiction #outer range imagine #outer range blurb #Rhett abbott #Rhett abbott fan fic #Rhett abbott fan fiction #Rhett abbott imagine #Rhett abbott blurb #Rhett abbott x reader #Rhett abbott x you #Rhett abbott x y/n

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fairyfandommother · 2 years

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‘Young Royals’ Season 2: An unhelpful guide to the first look at the upcoming season.

Image 1: Crown Prince Wilhelm at home, eating with his parents: Her Majesty, Queen Kristina of Sweden and The Prince Consort, Ludvig

It’s so sad that there are only placements for the three of them. It’s like even Erik’s ghost is gone now. Also very telling how Kristina and Ludvig are all smiles and Wilhelm looks rather uninterested and resigned. This is probably going to be the start of the season before Wille goes off to Hillerska for the new semester. A goodbye dinner even, given the fanfare (correct me if I’m wrong but the ‘family dinner’ we saw in Season 1 looked a lot less formal).

Image 2: Crown Prince Wilhelm shares a glance with his ex-lover, Simon Eriksson (guys they never even explicitly said they were together so they weren’t even boyfriends idt 😭)

This is their official return to Hillerska, I think. The students (maybe it’s the choir) are all lined up for a welcome ritual for the Crown Prince’s arrival. Simon is gonna try his best to avoid this boy. I just know it. And Wilhelm is gonna be devastated. He’s probably gonna be like “Simon” all happy and breathless and he’s gonna be met with a “Your Highness”. WRING ME AND HANG ME OUT TO DRY I’M GOING INSANE

Image 3: Crown Prince Wilhelm frowning in focus (is that Henry right there?? I spy a redhead) while August, The Asshole of Arnås smiles in the blurred foreground.

This image does not sit right with me. What the fuck are you smiling about you weasel? I can’t believe Lisa casted Malte as this dickhead because his cute baby face is working so hard to curb my enthusiasm at the prospect of him getting beat up. It’s also quite strange that he seems to be the only one smiling in this frame?? Like literally everybody else is just… not paying attention or mad as fuck.

Fuck you, August.

Images 4 and 5: (ltr) Madison McCoy, Felice Ehrenchrona, Sara Eriksson, Stella, and Frederika. Sara Eriksson and August, The Asshole of Arnas.

First of all, Nikita with her natural hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Let’s go!!!!! Represent for the curly girls!!! This is such a huge deal for me as a black female fan of the show and I’m sure for Felice as a character. It represents her breaking out of that mold her mother put her in before to conform to conventional beauty standards. Love that she’s embracing her hair. Anywho… I put these images in a cluster because to me it seems like it happens either in the same scene or set around the same time (given Sara’s wardrobe). It’s probably the same first day as they’re all still in uniform. I doubt Felice would take very kindly to Sara and August conversing given what she knows but she also doesn’t know that Sara knows, Sara and August, The Asshole, don’t know that Felice knows. So, I’m thinking Sara and August are speaking away from the group (perhaps after they’ve left or walked off). August, The Asshole, looks teed off so I’m assuming this is a confrontation of sorts where he accuses Sara of spilling the beans to Wille and she has to convince him that she didn’t. Wouldn’t it be just great if Felice saw this little exchange and confronted Sara about it and Sara confesses what happened to Felice?? Wouldn’t y’al just love to see Sara face some consequences?? 🤭

Fuck both Sara and August tbh

Image 6: Felice Ehrencrona and Crown Prince Wilhelm share a quiet moment.

Wille looks so sad. Simon probably rejected him (as he should, let’s get one thing straight 😭), and Felice being the Best Friend Ever is rightfully trying to cheer Wille up. Wille had to make a lot of hard decisions last season, and those decisions hurt a lot of people, himself included. I hate what he did but it’s a messy situation all around and there’s really not much anyone can do about it. I believe in Wilmon Supremacy. Also, can I say that I love their friendship? I’m so happy that Felice, The Popular Rich Girl, is just.. so nice?? All hail.

Images 7 and 8: Simon Eriksson with best friends Ayub and Rosh + Crown Prince Wilhelm pining after Simon Eriksson in a classroom full of people.

I have TWO (2) theories about this set of photos. Given Simon’s wardrobe, I think it’s safe to say these scenes are probably close together (Omar was right, what is this kid wearing lmaooo). This is obviously during the week back (or even further in the semester) since the kids are back to regular clothing. My theories are more so with the order of these scenes.

Theory 1: Rosh and Ayub talk to Simon prior to the classroom scene where he tells them he’s gonna ignore Wille and they either stick by his decision or try to dig deeper into why he’s making said decision before he actually goes and ignores Wille in class ORRRRRRR

Theory 2: Simon ignores Wille in class and then tells Rosh and Ayub about it and they talk. I’m more inclined to believe this one because it makes more sense for him to meet up with his friends after school than it does for him to meet them before (assuming this is all the same day since he’s wearing the same clothes).

Let me also just take a moment to comment on Wilhelm’s very in-your-face staring here… like… he’s so obvious about it? And like, good for him?? Everyone else seems to be looking down at their books so maybe it’s a read aloud or a follow along but Wille’s not even trying to look like he’s paying attention. Also, how much do you wanna bet he kicked someone out of their seat to be able to sit with Simon? How many eyebrows do you think that raised? You go, Wille. Fight for your man.

Image 9: Crown Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson, with their team, during rowing team training (?)

Looooot of assumptions here but they’re all in uniform and we know they’re on the team so let’s assume this is canon.

There’s so much going on here. Simon is like… all up in Wille’s space. One hand around his waist (check the mirror) and another on his side. Obviously this is a team building exercise and it could mean absolutely nothing but the significance of Simon being the one to have direct physical contact with Wille is pretty telling iykwim. This picture also seems kind of strange to me as I don’t think it belongs to the rest of the cluster which I’m guessing is the first, or even second, episode of the new season. This picture is singular in arrangement. There’s no partner. I’m guessing it happens a little later on (3 or 4 maybe) and after Wilmon have had some sort of development. A talk maybe? Cleared the air at least. Established some necessary boundaries.

Also notice who is very strategically missing from this shot? The captain of the team. I hope he got expelled. 🫶🏽🫦

Anyways, this makes zero sense but it’s just the initial vibe that I’m getting from this set of photos. I’M SO EXCITED FOR WHAT’S TO COME!! Also, @ that one Netflix France employee that leaked the season was coming out in November, I hope you don’t get fired 😭😭

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lawful-evil-novelist · 1 year

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So since @roadakamelot, @bleuberrygliscor, and @this-was-a-fandom-blog-once all on some level asked about the Gothic Supernatural Western OCs I wrote up some short summaries.

So the story concept doesn't have a name and most of the characters don't have one. The premise is demons came over with European settlers and wealthy Americans and sometimes communities that pool together enough money now hire out demon hunters to take care of infestations, and the cast of OCs are all demon hunters. It’s set in the southwest around Southern California and the Four Corners area.

The Medium: This is so far one of the two named characters: Trinidad. He's also the oldest character, a young Mojave adult linked by a curse to a Nahua spirit after burning down the mission that killed his parents. Because they come from different cultures and worlds they know very little about each other and only have one common language: Spanish. They’re still friends but Trinidad doesn’t even know if the spirit was a person once, not all spirits are dead people.

The Omen: This is the other character with a name: Blackbird or Asiginaak as is his name in Anishinaabe. He’s an Ojibwe demon hunter with a bit of a negative reputation because he likes rooting out the source of the demon infestation along with the demons themselves, which usually means disposing of one community leader or the other. He doesn’t actually care if this gives him a bad reputation by the way.

The Ronin: This is the samurai I mentioned before. Turns out being able to use a sword makes you a pretty prime candidate for demon killing, and no one expects a guy to roll up in cowboy gear carrying a sword. Of the cast he’s probably got the best reputation but that’s because he’s very polite. Three people on this list are from cultures where “I’m going to swear at you affectionately” is just part of the lexicon and three do not actually care if their rich settler clients think they’re an asshole.

The Daroga: So while this is a term referring to an official kinda like a police officer, the term is used in the novel by people hiring demon hunters to refer to ones from Persia. This particular demon hunter isn’t a daroga, but the specifics don’t matter to the people paying and this guy’s stopped bothering trying to correct them. He’s by all accounts the second most experienced with hunting demons, with Trinidad being the first.

The Witch: A young woman from the Russian Empire, as her title suggests she’s of a magical sort and as her origin suggests she’s about as tough as nails as they come. I should clarify starting with her that demon hunters are hired regardless of gender, because really their clients don’t care about their safety they just want to keep up appearances.

The Oracle: Originally a fortune teller from New Orleans, the Oracle picked up demon hunting after having a run-in with a demon herself. She’s the least experienced of the main cast but that doesn’t mean she’s bad at it, it just means she’s got the lowest head count. The Oracle is also a medium in her own way but doesn’t have any cool spirits attached to her like Trinidad.

The Fair Folk: Is she actually a Faerie? Yes she is in fact actually an Irish Fair Folk, she’s a dullahan. Yes, she is actively an asshole to everyone and borders on being just as bad as the demons they’re hunting minus the indiscriminate murder. Yes, she has the worst reputation of the whole cast, even Blackbird. She’s wonderful and an absolute nightmare and will open fights by removing her head and chucking it at her target.

They’re all on varying levels of the chaotic spectrum because you need to be a certain level of out of your entire mind to provoke demons (and also deal with the absurdly wealthy people that definitely attracted them and are now dealing with the consequences of their own actions).

#ocs #my ocs #original characters #gothic western #supernatural western #western #original character #original fiction #writing stuff #my writing

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mingzisdrgongxuo · 7 months

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Nice "badges" tumblr page header update.

Was that a retort?

And no not apartment 76.

I talk to you everyday when I show up for coffee and ask about delivered mail. Same apartment as yesterday, the day before that, and before last weekend, and the day before that. How do you forget?

It sounds like somebody is trying to force me to put up with dishonesty and grief only parents have to put up with.

What do you "need" me to confess to "grill boy"?

Intercepted truancy letters from school back in the early 90s, 35 years ago?

Is that what this issue is about?

When you read back the wrong apartment number, if I'm not paying close enough attention and don't correct you, does that mean you get to put it in your pocket and keep it for yourself, holding my package and asking about 76, if I say yeah,, and you say nope. Nothing for 76, who's apartment number are you holding?

I have to completely fabricate a story scenario, about my apartment numbers,

In reality, she chose the number 76 in the conversation's dialog or script, whatever that symbolizes. Not me.

so your psycho stalker bitch ass doesn't try to further corrupt my system and bring more criminal elements to my neighborhood.

Thanks useless reinforcement.

Is this a HUD thing? And like all HUD arrangements, don't tell anybody that it's subsidized under the government.

Stuff that people do to make others pay the full rate while the priviledged applicants only pay 25% of their rent rate.

Sort of like an apartment that is supposedly 800 per month between two people, 400 each person.

Now they are happy to have a new roomate that cooks and cleans the entire two bedroom apartment everyday, while charging me 400 bucks to sleep on the couch in the living room. Leaving me to clean everything, because they don't do shit to clean their own apartment, living room, bathroom, or kitchen.... or wash their own dishes.

Niggering me down.

Then the next door neighbor tells me after they kick me out on zero notice, and deciding to keep my stereo, music gear, and appliances, that the place is hud and is only 400 per month.

After wiping their ass and cleaning up after them like their fucking mothers and paying their entire month's rent for them to live in their own rooms for the entire summer.

And you see them as my "friends" and inconvenience me as such, when you meddle and refuse to leave the real problem solving to the Law or to handle things myself.

Was this justice for me? Or you?

Nyuk nyuk.

I think somebody works for "un cool" phil.

Anything else, prostate piss-milker sodomy boy?

My mother is dead. She died many years ago.

Last time i saw my mother alive was after my grandmother's funeral on sept 11, 2001 that phil eulogized and quoting "i win" a lot periodically in the eulogy.

My grandmother died on sept. 6th. 2001.

I was then kicked out of my apartment on oct. 6th 2001. Was i in control of that decision or occurence? Was that supposed to be a statement?

Is that a truancy letter your trying to intercept and grill me over, nigger?

Is Phil trying to be the family's disciplinary hand taking it upon himself to play law or government over me?

I think you're some spoiled rich bitch cunt that's acting like a bitch for ghosting your ass trying to get me to explain why I disappeared from you or without telling you what happened in my life since you last saw me.

Maybe it's because I don't like you.

Maybe it's because you make problems in my life.

Maybe it's because you're a troublemaker.

Maybe it's because my life turns to shit whenever you try to force yourself included in my life's equations.

Maybe you need to research when my life prospers when i govern my own life according to the law and government without religion,

and who is part of the equation whether I know about it or not, when my life suffers by the hands of others.

How many people work alone specifically for this reason of you can't trust your "helpers" or assistants, to not ruin everything in your life.

Maybe it's because you insult my intelligence but I have to take shit in stride because bowing to your lawless bullshit is not how a person survives.

UPDATE -

I go back to the office,

As if I'm the one who needs to be turned to a pillar of salt, so "daddy" can chase me around with his dick in his hand and call me his Venus, so he can "grab me and control me" anytime he wants by the power of his masturbation and personal sexual gratification.

One of the office staff has a phone in her ear, and answering bullshit questions and inquiries from a person looking for an apartment. Bullshit that has no commitment or person's name or identity.

Material bitch?

"Has my package arrived"

Looks around, new packages and mail on the front counter, ...

"No. nothing for you yet".

I show her my cellphone and screenshot showing my tracking and delivered status and what time it is.

"Huh. There's nothing here...."

"What were you expecting?"

"My frigging mail order package. It's my mail."

Goes over to the east side of the front desk, and behind a wall in a room, where I can't see who is back there.

"Oh! Here it is. It was stuffed under all this other stuff.:

Less than an hour after I asked about the same apartment number.

After the same tenant visits everyday to pick up any mail that the post office is supposed to deliver.

"Thanks. I'll see you later."

The other office staff worker is still on the phone where other customers can hear me break the silence barrier talking and hearing my conversation in the background.

Bearing false witness, and making sure my silence isn't the "Magic" ingredient that makes people die. Like AIDS.

Are you bullshitting a bullshitter? As Phil would call it when he thinks a person is lying to him.

I gave them no motives to bullshit me.

Were you getting even with me for bullshitting you?

What about my sister or the rest of my "friends" and family, what's the percentage of bullshit my ears are exposed to every time I am in contact with another human courtesy of Phil's coaching?

Was lying to me supposed to make me "69" you and lie to you in return?

"Oh! Here it is!"

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incarnateirony · 1 year

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*pretends to be man of the people*

*uses ‘pleb’ as an insult*

Yeah, it's not The People I'm correcting. It's the man who class jumps by ripping tens of thousands of dollars out of people's pockets with lies and playing great information pretender after more than half a decade of failure. (2po and the collective leak fail history of all his friends that endorse his behaviors in spnscripthunt)

Him.

He's a pleb.

Also, Man of the People? I'm a Man of the Truth. Fuck people. People suck. It's where creatures like you come from. Your entire problem with me is that I'm NOT a media plebian like yall, and that no amount of your cool girl socialite club bullshit of rumors and pay passes has ever been able to touch me. You guys actually think everyone ELSE are plebs, and it drives you insane when I shatter your reality bubble and like. No, you're plebs too, maybe more plebian than the people you look down on.

Yeah. You know what. You're a pleb too. Thanks for helping me realize that.

And yknow, that's why the few times over several years I've used the word Pleb or Plebian, you pearl clutch like this. Because you do, in fact, always consider everyone else plebian compared to your social circle, then I remind you that social circle is just a plebian consumer illusion, and you all piss your pants, because now the plebes are telling you that you're actually plebes, and how dare you, to misguided paypass upper class bitches, that's like, the worst insult imaginable, I guess. Then normal people are just "lmao. plebe"

it's like yall trust fund babies and married-rich nobodies literally can't take "you realize you're just normal people and consumers" without letting out pterodactyl noises of offense. Your parents lied to you. You're not special. Society lied to you. Not everything can be answered with money.

Experience, ingenuity and labor always win out on actually *accomplishing things*, even if it takes years while people like you kick your feet up. Since y'all never know where to go without a consumer announcement of where to spend your next money. the rest of us had a path, sorry.

And even some of them are Poor People, but they're not plebs. That's not what this is. You know what this is. It's that, for the first time in your lives, you're the plebs, and the Small Name Fans and Unknowns just ran circles around you for years and took everything from you.

I'm not even a true BNF. Y'all treat me like one because you're so threatened by me, but I've never cared about the size of my following, and The Truth was never popular in any lane until S15 or here. I got like 3500 followers after 6 years. By now most of those are idle accounts. I'm like. A Mid Name Fan at best. I'm the Big Name Fan of Small Name Fans who has never had to pay a dime for what I accomplish and teaches others how to do the same in what's joked as CIA grade operations people learn, and it drives you fucking bananas, because you can't stop us.

While you're at it, you guys are really attacking the wrong person again-still. Like, guys I meant it when I said I'm out of putting in the aforementioned labor. I've created an entire system to Not Be Involved. There's new rooms and methods and a new crowmaster (Crowmaster in training? Ig? Since sometimes I still have to say where to send things).

it is what it is but you're just basically yelling at a rando that knows things that you hate being real, now. If you wanna bother the actual messenger these days, you're in the wrong box.

Now feel free to be haunted by looking for crows at your conventions forevermore. Or at least till the end of February, where I imagine most of you will begin like a 2 month long dramatic ragequit.

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dfroza · 13 days

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Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for April 27 of 2024 with Proverbs 27 and Psalm 27, accompanied by Psalm 40 for the 40th day of Astronomical Spring and Psalm 118 for day 118 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 1st revolution this year)

[Proverbs 27]

Don’t brag about what may happen tomorrow

because you have no idea what it will bring.

Let someone else praise you;

compliments are always sweeter from a stranger’s lips than from your own.

Heavy is rock and weighty is sand,

but more burdensome than either is the anger of a fool.

Wrath is fierce and anger is a tidal wave of fury,

but who of us can stand up against jealousy?

Open rebuke is better

than hidden love.

Wounds inflicted by the correction of a friend prove he is faithful;

the abundant kisses of an enemy show his lies.

The person who is full has no interest in honey;

but to the starving, bitterness itself is sweet.

Like a bird that strays far from its nest,

so is a person who forsakes his own home.

The heart is delighted by the fragrance of oil and sweet perfumes,

and in just the same way, the soul is sweetened by the wise counsel of a friend.

Do not neglect your friend or your parent’s friend for that matter.

When hard times come, you don’t have to travel far to get help from family;

A neighbor who is near is better

than a brother who is far away.

Study to be wise, my son, and make my heart glad,

for then your life will be my answer to anyone who hurls insults.

The astute see evil coming and take shelter,

but the stupid plow right on and then, of course, have to pay the price.

If someone guarantees a stranger’s debt, hold his garment as collateral;

if that guarantee is for the debt of a foreigner, make sure you get a deposit.

Anyone who blesses his neighbor with a loud voice

early in the morning,

will find his blessing regarded as a curse.

A constant dripping on a rainy day

and a wife’s bickering are very much alike:

Anyone who tries to control her might as well try to control the wind

or pick up oil in his right hand.

In the same way that iron sharpens iron,

a person sharpens the character of his friend.

Whoever takes care of a fig tree will eat of its fruit,

and whoever cares for his master will be honored.

Just as water reflects a person’s true face,

so the human heart reflects a person’s true character.

Neither the grave nor destruction is ever satisfied;

the desires of people are never totally fulfilled.

The crucible is used for refining silver, the furnace for gold,

but praise is what tests a person’s mettle.

Though you grind a fool like grain

in a mortar with a pestle,

still his foolishness will not be separated from him.

Pay careful attention to your flocks,

and see to the welfare of your herds

Because riches do not last forever,

nor does one dynasty retain power through all generations.

When the hay is harvested and the autumn grasses begin to grow

and the herbs of the mountains are gathered,

Then the lambs will provide wool for your clothing,

young goats can be sold to buy a new field,

And there will be enough milk from your goats

to sustain you, your family, and your serving girls.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 27 (The Voice)

[Psalm 27]

A song of David.

The Eternal is my light amidst my darkness

and my rescue in times of trouble.

So whom shall I fear?

He surrounds me with a fortress of protection.

So nothing should cause me alarm.

When my enemies advanced

to devour me alive,

They tripped and fell flat on their faces into the soil.

When the armies of the enemy surround me,

I will not be afraid.

When death calls for me in the midst of war,

my soul is confident and unmoved.

I am pleading with the Eternal for this one thing,

my soul’s desire:

To live with Him all of my days—

in the shadow of His temple,

To behold His beauty and ponder His ways

in the company of His people.

His house is my shelter and secret retreat.

It is there I find peace in the midst of storm and turmoil.

Safety sits with me in the hiding place of God.

He will set me on a rock, high above the fray.

God lifts me high above those with thoughts

of death and deceit that call for my life.

I will enter His presence, offering sacrifices and praise.

In His house, I am overcome with joy

As I sing, yes, and play music for the Eternal alone.

I cannot shout any louder. Eternal One—hear my cry

and respond with Your grace.

The prodding of my heart leads me to chase after You.

I am seeking You, Eternal One—don’t retreat from me.

You have always answered my call.

Don’t hide from me now.

Don’t give up on me in anger at Your servant.

You have always been there for me.

Don’t throw me to the side and forget me,

my God and only salvation.

My father and mother have deserted me,

yet the Eternal will take me in.

O Eternal, show me Your way,

shine Your light brightly on this path, and make it level for me,

for my enemies are lurking in the recesses and ravines along the way.

They are watching—hoping to seize me.

Do not release me to their desires or surrender me to their will!

Liars are standing against me,

breathing out cruel lies hoping that I will die.

I will move past my enemies with this one, sure hope:

that with my own eyes, I will see the goodness of the Eternal

in the land of the living.

Please answer me: Don’t give up.

Wait for the Eternal in expectation, and be strong.

Again, wait for the Eternal.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 27 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

The psalms provide us with a way to think about and pray through the various threats we face. Our enemies today may not be the same as in biblical times, but they are no less real. Consider the threats on the horizon. Some may be national. Others may be more personal. Still they come to surround us and destroy us if they could only get the chance. The reality is there are times when our enemies appear to have the upper hand and our cause is lost. But wait and listen to the psalm! All is not lost because, ultimately, God is our light and salvation. The darkness will lift, and our Savior will come. He will settle all scores, and we will live in the beauty of His presence.

[Psalm 40]

For the worship leader. A song of David.

I waited a long time for the Eternal;

He finally knelt down to hear me.

He listened to my weak and whispered cry.

He reached down and drew me

from the deep, dark hole where I was stranded, mired in the muck and clay.

With a gentle hand, He pulled me out

To set me down safely on a warm rock;

He held me until I was steady enough to continue the journey again.

As if that were not enough,

because of Him my mind is clearing up.

Now I have a new song to sing—

a song of praise to the One who saved me.

Because of what He’s done, many people will see

and come to trust in the Eternal.

Surely those who trust the Eternal—

who don’t trust in proud, powerful people

Or in people who care little for reality, chasing false gods—

surely they are happy, as I have become.

You have done so many wonderful things,

had so many tender thoughts toward us, Eternal my God,

that go on and on, ever increasing.

Who can compare with You?

Sacrifices and offerings are not what You want,

but You’ve opened my ears, and now I understand.

Burnt offerings and sin offerings

are not what please You.

So I said, “See, I have come to do Your will,

as it is inscribed of me in the scroll.

I am pleased to live how You want, my God.

Your law is etched into my heart and my soul.”

I have encouraged Your people with the message of righteousness,

in Your great assembly (look and see),

I haven’t kept quiet about these things;

You know this, Eternal One.

I have not kept Your righteousness to myself, sealed up in the secret places of my heart;

instead, I boldly tell others how You save and how loyal You are.

I haven’t been shy to talk about Your love, nor have I been afraid to tell Your truth

before the great assembly of Your people.

Please, Eternal One, don’t hold back

Your kind ways from me.

I need Your strong love and truth

to stand watch over me and keep me from harm.

Right now I can’t see because I am surrounded by troubles;

my sins and shortcomings have caught up to me,

so I am swimming in darkness.

Like the hairs on my head, there are too many to count,

so my heart deserts me.

O Eternal One, please rescue me.

O Eternal One, hurry; I need Your help.

May those who are trying to destroy me

be humiliated and ashamed instead;

May those who want to ruin my reputation

be cut off and embarrassed.

May those who try to catch me off guard,

those who look at me and say, “Aha, we’ve trapped you,”

be caught in their own shame instead.

But may all who look for You

discover true joy and happiness in You;

May those who cherish how You save them

always say, “O Eternal One, You are great and are first in our hearts.”

Meanwhile, I am empty and need so much,

but I know the Lord is thinking of me.

You are my help; only You can save me, my True God.

Please hurry.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 40 (The Voice)

[Psalm 118]

Give thanks to the Eternal because He is always good.

He never ceases to be loving and kind.

Let the people of Israel proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

Let the priests of Aaron’s line proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

Let the people who fear the Eternal proclaim:

“He never ceases to be loving and kind.”

When trouble surrounded me, I cried out to the Eternal;

He answered me and brought me to a wide, open space.

The Eternal is with me,

so I will not be afraid of anything.

If God is on my side, how can anyone hurt me?

The Eternal is on my side, a champion for my cause;

so when I look at those who hate me, victory will be in sight.

It is better to put your faith in the Eternal for your security

than to trust in people.

It is better to put your faith in Him for your security

than to trust in princes.

All these nations surround me, squeezing me from all sides;

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

They rose up against me, squeezed me from all sides, yes, from all sides;

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

They surrounded me like a swarm of bees;

they were destroyed quickly and thoroughly—

Flaring up like a pile of thorns—

with the name of the Eternal, I will destroy them.

I was pushed back, attacked so that I was about to fall,

but the Eternal was there to help me keep my balance.

He is my strength, and He is the reason I sing;

He has been there to save me in every situation.

In the tents of the righteous soldiers of God,

there are shouts of joy and victory. They sing:

“The right hand of the Eternal has shown His power.

The mighty arm of the Eternal is raised in victory;

the right hand of His has shown His power.”

I will not die. I will live.

I will live to tell about all the Eternal has done.

The Eternal has taught me many lessons;

He has been strict and severe,

but even in His discipline, He has not allowed me to die.

Open wide to me the gates of justice

so that I may walk through them

and offer praise and worship to the Eternal.

This is the gate of the Eternal;

the righteous children of God will go through it.

I will praise You because You answered me when I was in trouble.

You have become my salvation.

The stone that the builders rejected

has become the very stone that holds together the entire foundation.

This is the work of the Eternal,

and it is marvelous in our eyes.

This is the day the Eternal God has made;

let us celebrate and be happy today.

O Eternal One, save us, we beg You.

O Eternal One, we beg You, bring us success!

He who comes in the name of the Eternal will be blessed;

we have blessed You from the house of the Eternal.

The Eternal is the True God;

He shines His light on us.

Let the feast begin.

Bring the sacrifice, and tie it to the horns of the altar.

You are my God, and I give You thanks;

You are my God, and I praise You.

Give thanks to our Eternal Lord; He is always good.

He never ceases to be loving and kind.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 118 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Early Christians found in the words of this psalm a wonderful way of describing the significance of Jesus. He was the rejected stone whom God made the cornerstone of a brand-new temple (verses 22–24).

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nickgerlich · 3 months

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Page By Page

I have always been an avid reader. It started when I was a mere lad, and my parents would buy me Hardy Boys Mysteries books, as well as take me to the library. My parents may not have been rich, but they provided a wealth of opportunity, and I am so happy that I ran with it.

As a writer today—in addition to my academic writing, I also write for several magazines and have been co-author of two books—I have come to realize that to be a good writer, one must first be a great reader. It’s kind of like photography. You learn from watching how others do it, and all that reading I did as a kid, and have continued to do as an adult, provides inspiration, new vocabulary, literary tropes, interesting twists and turns, and more. You can study text books all day long on it, but the real lessons learned are from those out there in the trenches doing the work.

As an adult, I have participated in book clubs, usually informal and mildly structured chat sessions. While we could have done these online, in the pre-COVID days the emphasis was on F2F.

COVID, of course, changed all that, forcing all of us into our cocoons and online for life, love, and work. Now that we continue to emerge in the post-COVID era (and I use that phrasing loosely, because I realize that COVID is still among us), we are finding ourselves doing a balance of both F2F and online.

And here is where all that book talk returns to the discussion. Book clubs are all the rage now among Gen-Zs and Millennials. It’s just that they don’t look a lot like how we did it in the past.

Rather than the typical high-brow book clubs of old, usually in someone’s living room with crackers and adult beverages to complement our insightful colloquy, book clubs are happening in breweries and even on group runs. Of course, if you can talk while you’re running, you’re really not running that hard. You’re socializing, but that’s OK. It’s better than being a couch potato.

And then there are social media gatherings, which can attract many thousands of people through the power of specific hashtags, like #BookTok on TikTok. That’s something your grandparents probably wouldn’t do, they—I mean we—of the tweed blazer with elbow pads set.

How we do it today, though, is not nearly as important as that we are doing it period. That’s the huge takeaway for me, and signals a renaissance in the making for the book industry. Aside from a temporary major bump during COVID, and subsequent minor decline, book sales overall are trending upward. Unit sales are up 30% since 2012.

This comes at a time when I had all but given up hope for a revival, thinking that reading had fallen by the wayside. My daughters read a lot of books while growing up, probably because they were surrounded by them in our house. It rubbed off. But I just did not see it elsewhere. I could see the decline in my students, because what comes out of a person’s mouth and keyboard is a function of what goes in the brain first. You can always tell when a person is well-read.

Fortunately, this is a situation that is correctible. Better yet, it is a breath of fresh air to learn of younger adults developing a passion for reading, and while it is an activity that we initially do alone out of necessity, it can be shared with others later in a group setting. And as we are seeing now, those groups can be real or virtual.

I’ll be understanding and say that reading is not for everyone. Some people have difficulties and disabilities. But for those who can, then I urge them to do. While the brain is technically not a muscle, it can grow stronger just like your quads and biceps. It’s just that you need to exercise it.

There’s hope for an industry as well as for a couple of generations. Keep consuming those words, and instill that desire in your kids. It’s an investment—just like my parents did—that will pay dividends years down the road.

Dr “Buy The Books” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Millennials #GenZ #books #book clubs

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the-letter-horror-lover · 2 years

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One hell can hide another

GodofwarAtreus

Summary:

Your life was anything but idyllic. You worked hard for people who denied your existence. Until the day when a young count with a mysterious butler offers you a chance to escape this hell. But while fleeing this hell, didn't you land in another one?

Chapter 1: prologue

Chapter Text

Your parents were never good people, imbued with their person. They were sure to be better than the others, that they were among the chosen ones. They were so sure that they were superior beings. When lady (Y/L/N) had become pregnant, they were sure and certain of having a boy. Their disappointment was immense when you were born. You, a girl. Your parents never accepted you. Worst of all, they had abandoned you, leaving you with your grandparents. Unlike your parents, your grandparents were humble and above all loving. They raised you the best they could. You had lived thirteen wonderful years with them. Until the day your grandparents died in a cab accident. At that moment, your life had become hell. Your parents in "their great kindness", to take you back with them. But not to live a peaceful life, you had become the housekeeper of the mansion.

When your grandparents died, you inherited their mansion and their money. But because of your young age, you could not touch the inheritance and the management was entrusted to those who had created you. They weren't shy about squandering everything on extravagant parties, trips around the world and the like. When the money was running out, they didn't hesitate to sell your grandparents' residences and all their belongings, leaving you penniless.

Ten years passed. Ten years of suffering the scourge of your parents. This day was no different from any other. You stayed up all night so the mansion could be ready for tonight's party. You still had to prepare the feast tonight. Your parents had decided to organize a new party. This time, there were distinguished guests that your parents wanted to impress. The Queen's Watchdogs: Ciel Phantomhive. They tried, in vain, to make part of his circle of friends. Even you knew it was impossible. They were soon homeless because of their irresponsible conduct with their wealth. This place was proof of that. Your parents weren't as rich as a count or as a baron. They had gone into debt up to their necks to buy this much too big mansion that you were the only person to take care of. Fortunately for you, your parents had hired extra hands to make this evening idyllic. You had done your best to hide your dark circles and you had put on "correct" clothes. It must be said that your parents were kind enough to provide you with two uniforms in a sorry state.

"If you see Count Phantomhive, come tell me immediately, understand?!"

"Y-yes."

A sigh escaped your lips as you picked up a tray with glasses filled with lemonade. You did your best to avoid guests who were too engrossed in their discussion to pay attention to you.

"A lemonade?" you suggested to a young boy accompanied by a butler.

The young boy took a filled flute, giving you a slight nod of thanks. You walked away from the young boy and his butler who seemed strange to you. This charismatic man seemed a little too perfect to you. Without you knowing it, the two men watched you disappear into the crowd, as if you had never been there.

"Is it that girl? The biological daughter of the family (Y/L/N)?" Ciel asked, taking a sip of his lemonade.

"Yes," Sebastian replied. "As you asked me. I observed the (Y/L/N) family. Miss (Y/N) works alone in this huge mansion. She has not slept all night for this party to be perfect."

"Are you complimenting her?"

"It's amazing for a human being to be able to do all his efforts alone. Don't you think, young master?"

"Maybe."

(o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o)

A weary sigh escaped your lips as you collapsed onto the table. You were exhausted, your feet and your back ached, but you had a lot of work to do. You had to do all the dishes, clean the ballroom, clean the tables and lots of other things. But it's been two whole nights since you last slept or sat up. Now that you had made the mistake of sitting down, your body refused to move, your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. You were so sleepy. Your eyelids closed on their own without you being able to fight.

"I'm going to be in trouble," you thought, slipping into unconsciousness.

You didn't know how long you had slept, but you had no desire to wake up. But work was calling you. You opened your eyes, checking the time: 5 am. You were way behind schedule. Your parents weren't going to be happy, but like everyone else, you needed to sleep from time to time.

"I'm sick of this place," you muttered between your teeth.

"In that case, why not leave this place?"

Your heart jumped in your chest, your hand mechanically grabbed the knife to neutralize the intruder. But to your surprise, the man locked your wrist, blocking your attack. This guy, he was at the party with this young boy.

"What are you doing here?" you asked between your teeth.

"My young master has asked me to make you an offer you can't refuse," Sebastian said smiling at you and letting go of your wrist to extend his hand towards you. "Don't you think it's time to let go of these people who don't even consider you your daughter."

Your heart sank hearing that. As a child, you had hoped when doing a good job your parents would accept you. You had been naive.

"(Y/N)!!!! Why has nothing been cleaned up?!!" yelled your hysterical progenitor.

You bit your lip as you squeezed Sebastian's hand. The devil butler was smiling, licking his lips hungrily. You had the strange sensation of having signed a pact with the devil.

#black butler fanfiction

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iloveimaginarypeople · 2 years

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Tropes + My Selfships

Ok so I had an idea at 3 am (the best kind of idea) and I'm writing my selfships with all the fanfic tropes I like. Or even just tropes I know.

First up is Hanahaki disease because it fucks severely (or at least my version of it does, imo). In my canon hanahaki disease is an opportunistic fungus that feeds on the hormones released by infatuation, particularly unrequited infatuation for... reasons. Suspend your disbelief idk.

Steve wasn't sure why this was happening. At this point he was fuzzy on when it started, he could barely narrow down a month. Which was weird because he'd think he'd remember when something this strange started happening to him.

It didn't seem related to what happened earlier this summer, at least. He was pretty sure. Of course, it happened the same month, but he just didn't think it was that.

If it was, it'd be spores and not petals.

When it first happened, he tried to cover it up. It was just one little coughing fit toward the end of the day, and a few petals came up, wet with spit and kind of crumpled. It was weird but not too bad.

Then it was a few little coughing fits scattered across the day, a few petals surfacing each time. It was gross and freaky but still, managable.

Steve didn't mention it to his parents when they stopped by. Why bother? They'd just say the same things he was telling himself. Or his dad would think he was on drugs. Or think it even more, he guessed.

But he had to ask someone what was happening to him, just in case it was like, a real thing. Like some species of flower did this and he had to go to a hospital.

His thoughts turned to Teddy very quickly. She would believe him, and he'd seen the kind of dedication she had to getting to the heart of a problem and fixing it. If anyone could help him, it was her.

So here he was, at her house- the one in Chicago, with Murray.

"You have got to be kidding me, Harrington," she said.

"Uh... no, not kidding," he said. "What, you know what this is?"

"Dude it's weird you don't know," Teddy said. "Hanahaki disease? First documented case like, centuries ago or something? It's a fungal infection that mimics flowers and feeds off human hormones and amino acids."

"Hold on this thing is eating me? Like from the inside?"

"...No," Bernie said. "But it's pretty curable. You take some meds to suppress the hormones feeding it and then get a quick surgery, clears up in like three weeks. Should be pretty affordable for a rich guy like you." Kid of a rich guy, thanks, I lost my job slinging ice cream.

"Is there another option?" Steve asked. "My dad was pissed that he had to pay the paramedics who patched me up at Starcourt, he's not gonna want to shell out more cash because I got... what, Haki?"

"Hanahaki," Teddy corrected him. "And the other option seems to be resolving the cause of the disease." Or waiting it out but that was a dangerous game.

"The cause? It's a fungus."

"No, the fungus is just an opportunist that latched onto an ideal source. The cause is the hormones that attracted the fungus," Teddie said. Steve didn't seem to show any recognition. "You seriously didn't learn about this in health class?"

"I didn't go to health class, I was too busy doing the things they were talking about in health class," Steve said. He had that cheeky smile he wore when he thought he was being funny. Teddy smiled against her will, a tic-like twitch at the corner of her mouth.

"Good for you. I learned that Hanahaki disease infects people with an abundance of the infatuation hormones. Particularly when someone's in love with someone who doesn't love them back. That's why it's called the love disease or love sickness sometimes." Shit. Love? Did that mean he was in love? Fuck.

Was he really surprised?

Of course that was it. The timing was perfect. He got it a little while after he realized he was in love with Teddy.

And apparently she didn't love him back. Which also didn't surprise him, because lately it felt like he was the guy who helped women realize they could do a lot better.

"So... wanna tell me who it is?"

"What?"

"No you're right that's stupid," Teddy said. "It doesn't matter, that's your business." Plus it'd probably break her heart, just a little bit, to hear that he was still in love with Nancy Wheeler.

She'd thought she had a chance before, in that bathroom. And then right before they split up, the way he looked at her... it felt like they were about to kiss. She wished she'd just gone for it. She wished she'd stopped to talk to him on that curb instead of grabbing her dad and taking him home, too.

If she'd done that, maybe he wouldn't have this. Maybe he'd love someone who loved him back.

Then again if he was still in love with Nancy so long after they broke up, Teddy probably couldn't change that. It was dumb and kind of narcissistic to think she could.

Well that's part one. There's two more for Turn My World Upside Down and then some homosexuality is well overdue.

#pointless selfships #pointless s/is #ship: turn my world upside down #turn my world upside down #pointless writing #turn my world upside down fic #tropes + my selfships

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fortuositywritings · 2 years

Text

Terms & Conditions

Series Masterlist

Wanda x Reader, Fake Dating AU, multi-chapter, need i say more?

Summary: You’re a troublemaker rich kid whose parents are fed up. Not another cent until you prove you are responsible like this Peter Parker kid at this Stark gala.

“You cannot be serious?!”

“Oh, but I am and it is time you take things seriously as well!” Your father’s booming voice causes everyone in the room but you to flinch. “This is the last time you make a fool of yourself and make your mother and I look like we bred an imbecile. Front page no less!”

He throws the magazine on the coffee table. Sure enough, there you were on the cover. A picture of you and Harry Osborne, a guy you see from time to time, where you are both nude in a hot tub is displayed for all to see, obviously blurring out the more sensitive areas. This was from two weeks ago. The caption reads “Hot New Couple or Another L/N Summer Fling?” You roll your eyes at it.

“No one reads those trashy magazines,” you reassure your father but clearly he thought you would say that because he pulls out his phone. “No, but they do like social media and apparently you are quite popular on there.”

He shoves the cellphone in your face and you see that “hot tub” is trending. You can only assume what that meant. You sigh and take the phone from your father to skim through the socials and what people are saying. You read things like “Not the Osborne and L/N partnership I was hoping for, but I’ll take it” and “No, Harry. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into” with someone replying “We’ve all seen the photos. He knows exactly what he’s getting into and I wouldn’t mind getting into it too”. You scrunch your face up in disgust at that comment and hand your father his phone back.

“I am assuming Lana saw this? What did the missus have to say?” you sneer. Ever since your step mother stepped into the picture, your father actually started paying attention to what you do, acting like he cares because it’s not like he had over 20 years to play the role of the caring father.

“She actually gave me the idea to do this, actually,” he admits, making you scoff, “Of course she did.”

“You’re lucky she did, because I’ve had it with you. At that moment I was ready to cut you off, but she told me to give you a chance to prove you could grow up and take responsibility for once. So that is what you are going to do if you want to live the way you do. Do you hear me?” he practically chews you out, no shame in doing it in front of the help who pretend to clean but in reality try not to smile at you finally getting reprimanded for your behavior.

“Well, how am I supposed to do that?” you whine.

“You start by getting off your ass and getting ready for the gala,” he commands.

You throw your head back and groan in a petulant manner.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N. You are going and that is final. It’s a black tie affair so wear appropriate attire. It is a formal event, not a club. This also means best behavior. Y/N, are you listening,” he snaps at you.

“Ugh, yes. No skanky dress and no getting drunk. Got it,” you respond.

“Watch it. Go,” he relieves you of his scolding you. You get up from your seat and head to your room, rolling your eyes at Susan, one of the cleaning ladies who you see smirking.

You slam your bedroom door shut and jump into your bed, throwing your face into your pillow to scream. After letting out your frustration, you turn over and pull out your phone. You decide to text Harry. You send him an article of the two of you.

You: Hey, your ass is trending.

Harry O: correction: our asses and your tits are trending

You: right. How could i forget my tits

Harry O: don’t know cause they are pretty unforgettable

You: gross. Yours are pretty nice too, i guess

Harry O: you guess?? they are fkn spectacular

You: Mmmm if you say so

Harry O: come over and see for yourself ;)

You: Can’t. I have to go to the stark gala. My dad is making me go. I am now meant to be on my best behavior from here on out after that photo.

Harry O: how did he pull off that miracle? did he say he’d cut you off or something?

You: …

Harry O: he did, didn’t he!! that’s great haha

You: Shut up.

Harry O: maybe i’ll see you there

You: k

Harry: you know just how to make a guy feel wanted

You roll your eyes at his response but don’t reply. You leave your phone on your bed as you go to your closet to look for what to wear tonight.

“No skanky dress,” you talk to yourself as you rifle through your clothes. You deepen your voice to mock your father. “It’s a formal event, not a club, Y/N. Be on your best behavior, Y/N, cause it’s a black tie affair, Y/N.”

You sigh, none of the dresses calling your attention. “Black tie, black tie, black tie,” your eyes scan your closet and finally something catches them. You smile. “Well he said black tie.”

When it’s time to leave, you get in the back seat of the car where your father and stepmother are waiting for you. Your father looks at your outfit and sighs. “Y/N.”

“What? You can’t say anything when you are wearing the same thing,” you counter. You smirk when he bites his tongue and tells the driver you’re all ready to go.

“I think you look lovely, Y/N,” Lana compliments you. Your smile dies, Lana quickly killing your good mood. She is always throwing you compliments or acting so over the top nice to you. She married your father already. No need to butter you up anymore. She won.

“Thank you, Lana,” you mumble. Although you may dislike her, you also have good manners.

“At least fix up your tie,” your father adds. You don’t.

You find yourself wishing you were anywhere else for the fifth time in under an hour. You go through the motions, greeting everyone with a smile, sticking to your father and stepmother, taking pictures alongside them, letting them carry the conversation with other rich acquaintances they call friends. You reach for a champagne flute but your father stops you with a look. It’s the third time he’s done that.

“If you’re thirsty, I’m sure they have water or club soda,” he says.

“Great idea. Thank you, father. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go find some right now. I’m parched,” you let your parents and their so-called friends know.

You head towards the bar. You stand next to a brunette woman who sits sipping on her drink, looking bored. You grab the bartender’s attention.

“Can I get a club soda, please?” you ask. You look around and notice the bar is pretty hidden so you stop him and revise, “Actually, make that an old fashioned. Thanks.”

“Do you actually like that?” the brunette beside you speaks.

You turn your head to reply. She is stunning and you are not even looking at all of her. Her eyeshadow makes the green of her eyes pop and her curled eyelashes make them look bright. She awaits your answer, raising an eyebrow. You remember what she asked and smile. “Of course. Would I order it if I didn’t like it?”

She shrugs but keeps her eyes on you. The bartender slides you your drink. You thank him and then down it in one go when it is meant to be sipped. You pull a face of disgust.

The brunette giggles beside you. “So you don’t like it.”

“God, no. It’s gross, but it does the job,” you explain.

“And the job is?” she asks.

“Getting me drunk,” you state bluntly, making her laugh.

“Not a fan of these parties, I take it?” she assumes.

This time you laugh. “Parties, yes. Galas and any other event where I have to wear fancy dresses and pretend to care about enterprise-value-to-sales ratios, not so much.”

“What are enterprise-value-to-sales ratios?” she asks, feigning interest in the matter. She even leans her head on the palm of her hand to tilt her head up at you in curiosity.

“It’s basically a number investors can use to value-” you see the amusement in her eyes and you cut yourself off. You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, haha. Very funny.”

She starts laughing, her shoulders shaking and her head thrown back. You feel foolish for falling for it so easily but you can’t be too mad when the result is making a pretty girl laugh.

“Y/N!” your father’s voice makes its way across the room to you pulling your attention away from the beauty beside you. He waves at you to come over and you hold up your finger for him to give you a moment.

“Shit, does my breath smell like alcohol?” you ask her, but right as she is leaning in you say, “Of course it does, what am I saying? It’s all I’ve had. Excuse me, could I get that club soda, please?”

The bartender serves you and the brunette watches in amusement as you use it like mouthwash. You turn to ask her again, “Okay, how about now?”

She gets in real close. You could smell her perfume and it is intoxicating. She pulls away, “I think you’re fine. Just do not breathe heavily when you speak.”

“Noted. Thank you for entertaining me. If there were more people like you at these things, I might even enjoy them. If you care to rescue me later out there, my name’s Y/N.”

“Wanda,” she replies. You hear your father call your name again. You widen your eyes and purse your lips in frustration, not wanting to roll your eyes. Wanda giggles, “I think they’re calling you.”

“I should have gotten two drinks,” you say just loud enough for her to hear as you walk away.

Another excruciating hour ticks by. You play the doting daughter, speak when spoken to and keep on your best behavior, but this act is wearing you out. Someone joins the conversation, two someones actually. It’s Harry and some other guy who gives everyone a timid smile.

“Hello, everyone. Mr. and Mrs. L/N. You look wonderful,” Harry compliments your stepmother, making you roll your eyes. She thanks him and he turns to you. “Y/N, had I known you were going to show me up in a suit, I wouldn’t have come.”

Everyone in the group laughs but you narrow your eyes at him instead. His friend pipes up, “You do look very nice, Miss L/N. I can see Harry is the lucky one in the relationship.”

You scrunch your face and Harry bursts out laughing. Everyone else in the group looks uncomfortable aside from your father who looks to be getting angry and Harry’s friend who seems confused. He glances at Harry hoping he’d explain. He doesn’t.

“We’re not dating,” you tell him.

“Oh, sorry. I assumed because of- no yeah, sorry,” his friend cuts himself off before saying what you all knew he was going to bring up.

“It’s alright. Everyone assumes, no one asks,” you shrug.

“I’m sorry about my friend Peter here. This Stark internship is taking a toll on his social skills,” Harry jokes alleviating the tension immediately. The group takes an interest in Peter’s internship with Tony Stark. Your father takes a liking to Peter and after he and Harry leave to greet other people, you don’t stop hearing about it.

“You know, you should really take some notes from that boy, Peter. Securing an internship before graduating high school, impressive. See that is what you could be doing,” your father drones on. You stop listening and just nod your head when it seems appropriate. You could really use another drink.

Wanda on the other hand has been nursing her drink at the bar. She also does not like these galas, but being part of the Avengers, it’s expected of her to show up. She wonders how much longer she can stay before it isn’t rude to leave. Maybe another 30 minutes.

“You look gorgeous, but that never surprises me,” a voice breaks through her thoughts. God, she hoped he wouldn’t be here. She downs her drink before she straightens up and turns to greet her ex-boyfriend.

“Hello, Joaquin. I didn’t expect to see you here,” she gives him a forced smile.

“Yeah, well Sam invited me and what could I do, you know,” he chuckles.

Wanda mumbles under her breath, “Say no.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Okay, it was nice seeing you. I think I hear someone calling me,” she lies trying to escape. She gets up from the stool and tries to walk past him but he steps in front of her.

“You’ve stopped answering my messages,” he starts. She sighs defeatedly.

“Maybe I have nothing left to say,” she tells him.

“Look, Wanda. I’m sorry about how things ended but I think we should try again,” he blurts out. Wanda scoffs and goes to reply but he continues, “I know, I know I messed up. I can admit that but I really think now is our time. We were so good together and we can be again.”

“It’s too late.” Wanda shakes her head.

“It’s not too late. I care about you and I know you still care about me,” he insists, but she keeps shaking her head.

“I don’t. Not anymore,” she assures him, but he still doesn’t believe her.

“Give me one reason why we can’t try again,” he demands. He really wasn’t going to let this go. Wanda avoids his eyes and catches you clearly dozing off as your father speaks to you. An excuse springs in her head looking at you.

“Because I am seeing someone,” she falsely confesses.

“Oh, really. Who?” he asks, tone full of disbelief.

“Y/N,” Wanda answers and at the same time calls you telepathically.

You jump, startled by the voice in your head. You recognize it. You look around and sure enough the brunette from earlier is looking right at you. She’s talking to some guy but she stares at you like she expects you to do something. Your father asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back. I think somebody’s calling me over,” you reply and without another word, you make your way over to the bar. Wanda sees you approach, confusion written all over your face. She just hopes you can act.

You tread lightly, interrupting the guy speaking with your presence. Wanda smiles widely at you like you just told her she is going to Disneyland and then she shocks you when she throws her arms around you.

“Darling, I was just talking about you,” she says. She leans in as if to kiss your cheek but whispers in your ear, “Play along, please.”

And whoever said “please” was the magic word had never been more right. When Wanda pulls back from your cheek, your hands immediately wrap around her waist so gracefully it’s like you’ve done it a thousand times. You smile like you’ve been told your father is getting a divorce.

“Good things I hope.” You turn to acknowledge the guy standing there, keeping one arm around Wanda’s waist. She holds that one with one hand and the other she hangs on your shoulder. He stares at you hard as if he is studying you. You flash him a grin anyway and push your unoccupied hand toward him in greeting. “Hi, I’m Y/N. And if she told you I snore, she’s lying. And you are?”

“Joaquin,” he answers confidently, shaking your hand. He has a little grin on his face when he says this but when he sees his name doesn’t ring any bells he tries again. “Joaquin Torres. Seriously?”

“Sorry, have we met before? I don’t mean to be rude,” you play confused. You know based on his attitude and his expecting you to know who he is that he was something to Wanda in the past. He looks so offended by you not knowing who he is that you almost laugh.

“Wanda has never told you about me?”

“I can sincerely say that your name has never come up in any conversation we’ve had,” you reply. Technically that isn’t a lie.

“Oh, then you must not have gotten to the exes talk. You haven’t gotten serious yet,” he assumes, mostly for his peace of mind. He’s back to his cocky self. “I mean no offense. I just don’t want to get Wanda in trouble for talking to me.”

“And why would Wanda get in trouble for doing that?” you challenge him, setting him up.

“Because I’m her ex,” he explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well weren’t you a lucky one,” you sneer. Wanda tries to hold back a laugh and tucks her head into your neck to pull herself together but you hear the small snort she lets out. You purse your lips to hold in your laughter now and pinch her waist as if to scold her for nearly making you break character.

Joaquin straightens his back, basically puffing his chest at you. You give him an unimpressed look that he ignores to warn you, “You seem like a really good kid…”

Clearly he doesn’t read those trashy magazines or he would have not said that. Wanda pulls away from completely burying her face into your neck to turn to her ex.

“...and you really lucked out here with Wanda, so just a piece of advice. Don’t let her go, because you never know who may come in and take your place.”

It’s obvious he’s implying he intends to get Wanda back. This guy has some audacity. You just met Wanda. You don’t know anything of their past relationship but fuck her ex.

“I’m not too worried.” You move to wrap both arms around her waist from behind as if to prove your point and to put the cherry on top you make a show of kissing her bare shoulder and say, “But thanks for the advice, Harvey.”

“It’s Joaquin,” he corrects you, annoyed that this isn’t going the way he planned.

“What did I say?” you play dumb.

“You called me Harvey.”

“Sorry about that, buddy.” You hope the faux apology comes out as condescending as you meant it to. You find calling someone older than you ‘buddy’ always does the trick. He clenches his jaw but doesn’t say anything.

Joaquin just stands there and stares at you, not even blinking. Wanda rolls her eyes at his childish behavior of resorting to a staring contest to try to one up you. She doesn’t have to turn her head to know that you are indulging him and have yet to lose because she can see her ex getting irritated.

Her eyes wander away from this pissing game happening and they land on people dancing. She uses it as the perfect opportunity to end this odd confrontation.

“Darling?” She squeezes your hand to grab your attention.

“Yes, love?”

“Let’s go dance,” she suggests, but you really don’t have a choice because she is pulling you away from her ex now.

“Pleasure to meet you, Juan!” you shout as you are being dragged away.

You can hear Wanda laughing ahead of you. When you get to the dance floor, Wanda turns to face you, pulling you close enough that she can wrap her arms around your neck. Your hands naturally fall to her sides. You start swaying to the music.

“I’m actually not much of a dancer,” she admits shyly.

You smile at the switch in attitude. Earlier she was so brazen, pulling you into her arms and claiming you were together to her ex and now she can’t even look you in the eye. You find it cute.

“Well I hope you are a fast learner, cause I am an excellent dancer,” you smirk, pulling her against your body unexpectedly. Wanda lets out a yelp and then a giggle when you dip her and pull her back upright.

You dance until Wanda’s feet get tired. You find an empty table to sit at. Before you take a seat, you offer to get her something to drink. She gratefully accepts and you head back to the bar. You order a drink for Wanda and ask for a water bottle for yourself.

The bartender leaves your drinks in front of you and you hear Harry’s voice say, “I thought you were supposed to be on your best behavior?” He appears by your side and eyes the alcoholic drink in your hand.

You roll your eyes. “This isn’t for me.”

You look over in Wanda’s direction and his eyes follow. He smirks, “Oh, I saw you two earlier. Nice dance moves.”

“Someone had to keep me entertained while you showed off your new friend. Thanks for that by the way. Now I have to get an internship to appear as responsible as your dear friend Peter,” you groan.

Harry chuckles at the situation but he offers, “I could ask my dad a favor and you could come work with me at Oscorp.”

You shake your head. “And have to see you every day? No thank you,” you joke. “Seriously though, thank you for offering but I think this is something I have to find on my own to please my father. Now, there is a pretty lady waiting for her drink, so I must go.”

“Yeah, good luck trying to hit that. You know she’s an Avenger right? She’s not going to fall for your bullshit,” he taunts.

“Why do you assume I’m trying to sleep with her? I’m on my best behavior, remember?” you remind him. He shakes his head laughing as you head back to the table. You place the drink in front of Wanda. “Here you are.”

She thanks you then notices that you didn’t get a drink for yourself. “Are you letting me drink alone?”

You smile. “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be here. Usually my stepmother gets tired by the end of the third hour and since it seems like she calls the shots, we leave when she wants to go. Also, I’m meant to be on my best behavior, which to my father also includes no drinking.”

“Ah. Well cheers to being on your best behavior,” she lifts up her drink and you tap your water bottle against it laughing.

After taking a sip of her drink she says, “Thank you by the way for saving me earlier.”

“Of course. It would have been rude of me to ignore you when you shout my name,” you shrug.

“Shout?” she asks, confused.

“Yes, didn’t you? Or am I suddenly hearing voices in my head?” you ponder. You could have sworn it was her voice.

“Do you not know who I am?” she asks, curiously.

“You’re Wanda. And I’ve just been told you are an avenger,” you answer. Then it clicks. “Wait! You’re the one with the red magic. You can, like, lift things.”

She chuckles, “Amongst other things.”

“Are you saying that was actually you in my head?” you start catching on. Wanda nods and bites her lip, worried that you might get mad at her for doing that.

“You scared the shit out of me, but that’s incredible. No wonder your ex wants you back. He was dating a beautiful, kick ass Avenger. Imagine screwing that one up.” You shake your head, wondering how he could let Wanda go.

Wanda blushes but answers that for you, “The power stuff isn’t for everyone, I guess.”

“So can you read people’s thoughts?” you ask to avoid talking about her ex, not wanting to bring up possible bad memories.

She nods her head and decides to play with you. “And I can read your future.”

“No way. Show me,” you demand.

“Give me your hand,” she requests. She takes your hand on the table and closes her eyes, pretending to concentrate. “Let’s see. You will have to make a hard decision in the near future, so get your priorities straight. Your lucky numbers are 8, 12, 23.”

You scoff and Wanda opens her eyes, shining brilliantly with mirth. She chuckles, “How are you so gullible?”

“You are the worst,” you say, but you laugh along with her. A flash goes off but you ignore it, to flick Wanda’s leg with your other hand. She doesn’t retaliate but she does shuffle her chair closer to you and pulls her hand from yours in order to grab ahold of your tie.

“Sorry, it’s been driving me insane,” she says as she fixes it. You allow it and even thank her when she pulls back. She goes to put her arm back on the table but forgets her drink is there and knocks it over, it spilling on you.

“Shoot. I am so sorry.” She grabs a cloth napkin on the table and pats your wet shirt.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, but she keeps patting you like it’s going to make a difference. You have to hold her wrist to get her to stop.

“Wanda, it’s fine. I’m probably leaving soon anyway,” you tell her to make her feel better.

“Yeah, but now you smell like you’ve been drinking and the stain doesn’t help. I don’t want to get you in trouble. Here, follow me,” she demands and once again it’s not like you have a choice because she grabs your hand and pulls you along with her.

You see her heading toward the elevators. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my room. I have clothes you can wear,” she explains as she pulls you into the elevator and presses the button for her floor.

“You live here?”

“Yeah. I’m always here if not on missions. We have a floor with a gym for training. So it’s like working from home,” she tells you. You arrive on her floor and she takes you to her room. Closing the door, she tells you to take off your shirt.

“Yes, m’am,” you tease. She rolls her eyes as she makes her way to her closet. She pulls out a sweatshirt for you. “Did it get on your pants too?”

“I don’t think so?” You drop your jacket, button up, and tie on the floor and hunch over trying to smell your pants. “I can’t smell anything.”

Wanda throws the sweatshirt in her hand onto her bed and comes over to you, falling to her knees. “Come here.”

“What are you doing?” you ask her, still hunched down.

“I’m trying to see if you smell like alcohol. Now come closer,” she commands, grabbing you by your belt and pulling you. You straighten up and shuffle over until you are right in front of her. She sniffs your pants and you awkwardly stand there trying incredibly hard not to have your thoughts stray to inappropriate places.

“I can hear what you’re thinking,” she says looking up at you. Your face flushes red. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“Well can you blame me? I mean-”

“Wanda, I knew you’d be- Oh my god!”

You and Wanda jump to the sound of someone walking into the room. She stands back up. Both of you look to see Steve covering his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company. I’ll uh, leave now. Sorry.”

He turns around and rushes out the door, closing it behind him.

“See, he’s probably imagining the same thing,” you continue your point.

“Oh my god. Just, here.” She throws the sweatshirt at you. You chuckle as you put it on. She glares at you. “It’s not funny. He’s probably going to try to talk to me tomorrow about the importance of locking doors or something.”

“Just tell him the truth. You were helping me out and sniffing my pants to know if they smelled like alcohol,” you advise, but saying it out loud, you knew it sounded like a dumb excuse. She gives you a look that says so as well. “Yeah, just tell him you’ll lock the door next time.”

Wanda changes as well, tired of wearing her heels and tight dress. You laugh when she motions for you to turn around, which is not fair. She got to see you change. You turn around anyway.

She insists she’ll wash your stuff and send it over to you. There is no room to argue so you give her your number to text her your address. Right on time, your father calls you asking where you are, telling you that he and Lana are waiting for you so they can leave. You tell him you’ll meet them by the elevators. Wanda follows you down.

“It was nice meeting you. Thank you for making today interesting,” you bid her farewell right outside the elevator.

“Same goes to you,” she replies, hugging you goodbye.

“Y/N, let’s go,” your father calls out, cutting your hug with Wanda short.

“I’ll be right there!” you shout over your shoulder. You shake your head at your father’s impatience, making Wanda giggle. You smile and say goodnight, walking over to your parents.

“Where are your clothes, Y/N?” your father asks while you head towards the exit. You leave him wondering, hoping you hadn’t done anything that he would deem as misbehaving.

He finds out the next day, or at least he thinks he’s found out when his assistant forwards him a link to a tabloid article titled “Y/N L/N’s magical night with Wanda Maximoff”.

He reads:

You heard that right. Y/N L/N was seen last night at tech billionaire Tony Stark’s gala with the one and only witchy Avenger, Wanda Maximoff. Whether the two hanging out all night was planned, no one knows. This is the first time the two have been spotted together. L/N arrived last night with her father David L/N and step-mother Lana L/N.

(Photo that was taken when you arrived)

She may have arrived with her parents, but she spent most of the night with Maximoff and looked rather chummy.

(Photo of you holding Wanda while talking to Joaquin)

(Photo of you and Wanda dancing)

(Photo of Wanda holding your hand at the table)

Sources say L/N disappeared with Maximoff a few hours later, only to be caught outside the elevators with a wardrobe change. Does the sweater look familiar?

(Photo of you and Wanda hugging outside the elevator)

(Photo of Wanda in that same sweater a few weeks ago)

To those rooting for Harry Osborne and Y/N L/N to officially get together, you might have to keep waiting on that. It seems like L/N is not quite done playing the field. Who would when she is hitting home runs like these?

Your father feels a migraine coming on. Fortunately for you, he is on a plane on his way to another city for business, which means he can’t yell at you at the moment. He does send you a text. Two actually.

Warden: (link)

Warden: We’re talking when I get home.

You’re confused until you click the link and read it all for yourself.

“Oh shit.”

_______________________________________________

Had this one in the vault for a while. I’m excited to continue it. Let me know what you think and also things you would like to maybe see happen in this story! It’s still under works so suggest to your heart’s content.

taglist: @scarletswandawitch @imdreamingblo @anxietyisgreat @xxromanoffxx @romanoffomixam @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @harleyswanda @gimaximoff @simplysimping999 @cmaysf @olsensnpm @chaekhan @dumpaccdontmindme @iliketozoneout

comment if you wish to be added to the taglist for this story or my Wanda stories or in all

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

Text

Arab Character Joining Corrupt Superheroes, Police Parallels

Anonymous asked:

I’m writing a story with a Arabian diaspora main character. The story is about corrupt superheroes, and how they affect an oppressed superpowered minority. The main character is one of these superheroes, naively joining them in his teens believing he’s going to help people. Doesn’t help that his parents are having money trouble. Eventually he ends up fighting a superpowered crook, and gets a bystander killed.

1)I know portraying an Arabian character committing violence is a pretty touchy subject, even if accidental. Is there any way I can write this that makes it clear to the reader that the action itself is messed up without the unfortunate implication that Arabs are violent?

2)A large part of the story is the MC’s parents reaction. They are loving parents, however after this incident happens, they are confused and ashamed. While they still love him, they temporarily cut ties with him. Eventually they reconcile and start to be a family again. In my research (they are diaspora Saudi Arabians), Family is very important and tight-nit. Shame towards the family is to be avoided at all costs. However I’ve also read that disowning a family member rarely ever happens. Is there a way to write this kind of narrative with respect to this aspect of Arabian culture?

Let us begin with some terminology.

- If a person is from Saudi Arabia, they are Saudi Arabian, or more commonly, Saudi. This is their nationality.

- They may or may not be Arab. Arab is an ethnicity. Not all Saudis are Arab. Not all Arabs are Saudi.

- Arabic is a language. Lots of people across the world who are neither Saudi nor Arab speak Arabic.

- Arabian on its own is a word used to refer to a specific breed of horses.

If you are referring to humans, you want to either say "Saudi Arabian" (both words) or “Saudi” to indicate nationality, or "Arab" to indicate ethnicity. If you’re looking to describe your character’s culture, you probably want to call it Saudi culture. (While grammatically correct, talking about “Arab culture” doesn’t make much sense because Arabs are an incredibly diverse ethnic group and there is no such thing as a single monolithic Arab culture).

Now for the first question. In my mind, the issue is less about the character committing violence, and more about the premise of the story and how it mirrors real-life oppressive structures. You have an organized group of superheroes who think they are doing good by fighting “crooks” but in reality are enacting systemic oppression upon a marginalized group. This immediately brings to mind police violence, racial profiling, and the way that policing in North America is used as a tool of white supremacy while glorified in propaganda as a force for good. Essentially, you are telling a story about a character who joins an oppressive policing force, enacts violence upon a marginalized group as a result, and (I’m assuming) eventually realizes that they are not, in fact, the good guys. This is very close to being a “bigoted character learns not to be bigoted” story. I recommend re-examining your premise in light of the real-life parallels and asking yourself whether this is the story you want to tell.

The issue is compounded by the fact that your character is an Arab teen, who in real life is more likely to be the one facing racial profiling from the police. Taking this character and making him the oppressor in your story makes the already flawed premise even more problematic, especially if the characters in the oppressed group are white.

As for your second question, it seems believable to me that a teen’s parents might reject him if they learned that he committed a crime. However, when the family in question is Arab, you are suddenly feeding into harmful tropes about oppressive and violent Arab parents. You are asking if there is a way to write this respectfully. I believe that there is, but it requires a great deal of care, nuance, and cultural awareness. While it is possible to write a Saudi Arab character grappling with the consequences of violence and familial estrangement in a compelling way, the way your ask is phrased leads me to believe you are not equipped to do it justice.

- Mod Niki

Think about why Arab people committing violence is a touchy subject, and then think about the general propaganda narrative that came about from the act that made things so touchy.

It’s going to sound one hell of a lot like what you have here.

Military and police use buckets and buckets of propaganda to continue hooking in young, impressionable teens to commit state-sanctioned colonialism and oppression. That propaganda looks suspiciously like “we have health insurance, we will pay for your education, you just have to do what we tell you even if that means hurting or killing others, but it’s okay because you get to be the hero in the situation.”

Now, propaganda is a very powerful tool. I was taught, in my media classes, that controlling the message means shaping reality. The media is built as a propaganda machine, and when you start to see who owns what media properties you start to see some really disturbing patterns (Rubert Murdoch owns a lot of right-wing sources across America, the UK, and Australia, and he’s too rich to investigate his culpability in spinning terrible narratives found in right-wing publications. He owns the big names).

As Niki said, this situation mirrors police violence and police-sanctioned terrorism. And the very, very unfortunate implications of making the target of police violence be in that wheel. But I want you to look at the media situation that has made the plot happen.

Because even if you swapped out ethnicities, you’d still have a reckoning to do with the American culture that their primary social safety nets involve killing people.

I am not kidding.

Some of the most well-funded unions in the country are police unions. These people have pensions. They have health insurance. It’s damn near impossible to fire them. They get overtime very well mandated, and it’s a known thing among defence lawyers that arrests happen right before a cop’s shift will end so they get the overtime of filing the paperwork. They absolutely go into poor neighbourhoods and recruit based off people needing an escape, and them having the money to provide it.

A similar sentiment is true for the military, except they push for college education a bit more and don’t really have overtime, but they do have deployment bonuses. So the way to get extra pay for yourself is to go out and do colonialism outside the borders. The military doesn’t necessarily like it when the economy is doing well, and don’t like the idea of college being affordable, because they rely so heavily on poverty and fear of college debt to recruit.

The story you’re telling here goes so far beyond an individual’s actions and instead taps into America’s single biggest cultural investment: that oppressing others makes you a hero.

The Pentagon funds most military media out there as a propaganda tool, including most superhero movies and a large number of video games. This is in their budget. They will also go so far as to literally commission the games to exist. Part of getting that funding is you cannot critique America’s military, basically at all (the only exception I’ve seen is Ms Marvel, but that’s set in the 90s). This turns any sort of military-using media into a potential propaganda tool.

And the thing is? Even if you fall for that propaganda and were part of the military or the police, you still have to reckon with the fact you put whatever your own desires were above a huge track record of those groups being terrible. You still have to reckon with the fact you didn’t realize they were wrong, and were complicit in a lot of crimes.

This goes very far beyond “the action is terrible” and goes into “the system is rotten to its core, and you chose not to believe it, or to believe you could change what was built with blood.”

“Good” police officers get fired. If you try to question anything, if you try to say this action is wrong, you will absolutely get destroyed. Military’s much the same. You need some degree of buy-in to the concept of white supremacy to sign up for the military or the police, because you need to see their actions as not deal breakers instead of actions that violate multiple international laws.

In short: you need to see the people being oppressed as deserving of being oppressed to some degree in order to participate with police and the military.

Marginalized people can hold this belief, it happens. But that is a very sticky situation that outsiders shouldn’t touch.

It’s possible but difficult for you to write a white person having this sort of arc, but it would be extremely challenging to have it not come across as a white guilt story. To not have a socially aware audience roll their eyes at how long it took. You’d definitely not be writing a story with a diverse audience in mind, because you’d mostly appeal to those who saw the propaganda as just fine and not that bad.

This isn’t even getting into the oft-cited adage that boys who bully others become cops, while girls who bully become nurses. And the more police atrocities become mainstream news, the less and less people can convince themselves that becoming a police officer is a good thing.

Which brings me to the point of: how well-documented is this oppression? Is this character walking around in an oppressive situation like, say, pre-social-media where there was no direct access to the oppressed groups and you could close your eyes and look away even if it made national news? Or is this in a media connected world where these oppressed populations have a voice in the narrative?

The former has an angle of the character slowly realizing the horror and it’s slightly more forgivable for their early ignorance. But in any sort of world where there’s access to the people getting hurt? Things get more and more “ignorance is indistinguishable from maliciousness.” And keep in mind, these stories are read in the real world, where police brutality and war crimes go viral, and a lack of knowledge is getting harder and harder to defend as a position.

Media plays a huge role in shaping our perception of what’s happening. Cameras on a situation makes different activism tactics work, as we can see with how activism changed in the 60s and 70s as tv reached the masses. Social media has made it possible for you to look up firsthand accounts of discrimination within seconds.

This is a factor you are absolutely going to have to consider, when you want to look at how nice your hero is seen by marginalized or otherwise socially-aware people. If there is a way to find out how bad this superhero organization is before you sign a contract with them? Then that doesn’t look particularly good on the “hero”. You’d really have to establish them as super idealistic, super sheltered, super desperate, and/or just swallow the knowledge that they really don’t see anything that happens “over there to those people” as that bad.

All of the above is more than possible. And they’d still be seen as complicit no matter what justification you gave, because they are.

Does this mean all corrupt organization stories are off limits? No. The reason these stories have such deep cultural resonance right now is because of the propaganda I outlined above.

But you as the author are going to have to examine your own engagement with the propaganda narrative and do your own private reckoning so your own sense of guilt and compliance doesn’t bleed through the narrative too strongly, so you can tell a good story instead of an overt message story that’s you working out your own feelings.

By all means, write a story where police and the military are taken down, where propaganda is weaponized and the media is controlled (because that’s sure as hell the modern world).

But know that stories where the hero discovers the corruption already have a ticking clock because we, in the real world, are slowly being faced with a mountain of apathy instead of ignorance. The knowledge of oppression is out there so much that marginalized people are tired of the ignorance defence.

As the saying goes, “privilege is the ability to ignore the oppression of others.”

Propaganda, centralized media, and strategic cultural investment made it possible for police and the military to have a chokehold on their public perception. But that’s changing. The chokehold is starting to fade, people are starting to question their beliefs.

The past year has shown that knowledge isn’t the issue; it’s white supremacy. People don’t want to believe that any of this is that bad. People want to believe that oppression is justified, that if people just followed the law they’d be fine. They don’t want to question themselves. And marginalized people are tired of these narratives where, suddenly, people snap out of it. Because there was so much evidence to show it was bad, but it was only when you do one of the worst crimes imaginable that you realize this is bad? It’s only when it becomes personal that things are worth looking at critically?

No. And you need to examine where you are in processing your own complicity before writing a story where you’ve swapped around the ethnicities to try and distance yourself from the problem, where in the end you made the target the oppressor.

~Mod Lesya

#police brutality #oppression #arab #saudi arabia #military #superhero #superheroes #asks #violence #propaganda

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

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I Did Something Bad - 1.

Bodyguard!Stucky x Reader AU

Part 2 <<

Run-through: You’re a rich spoilt brat, and your two bodyguards are the ones who have to put up with you and your attitude all day every day. Until one day, they’ve had about enough. And they decide to tame the brat in you…

Themes: bratty!reader, smut, daddy kink, bodyguard!stucky

“What a brat.” Steve mumbled under his breath.

“I agree.” Bucky sent a brief nod towards him.

They were both right behind you, each holding your countless shopping bags as they walked the steps which led to the front door of your house.

Correction, your father’s house. You didn’t actually own anything, you were just blessed enough to have been born in a filthy rich family. And you were an only child, so your parents treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You were spoilt.

Spoilt like Steve and Bucky had never seen before. You had people to do everything for you. You didn’t even do your own make up or hair in the morning; you had an entire team for that.

Your parents were away most of the time, on business trips and earning more money so you could be even more of a spoilt brat. Given they were away, they had two of the most highly trained, professional bodyguards stay with you to ensure your safety – Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

The two were the best of friends, and initially they didn’t even want to put up with you. But the paychecks which came from your father each month were hefty. So they compromised; put up with your annoying, bratty self just for the salary.

There were other perks of the job. They got to stay in a lavish mansion, they got to travel everywhere, enjoy the finest things in life, along with you.

“Uh, can one of you guys come help me?” came the sound of your voice from inside your bedroom. The two men who were outside your bedroom groaned quietly.

They shared a look and opened the door to your grand bedroom and stepped in. They always envied you, and all the nice things you had without even having work a day in your life. They both looked around, looking for you in the spacious bedroom.

You stepped out of the walk-in closet wearing a black, lace bodysuit – showing off your cleavage and your legs.

The two men’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Oh another perk to the job, you were smoking hot. And that almost made up for your attitude that they had to put up with at times, because who wouldn’t like a doll parading around them all the time?

You walked up till you stood in front of them, nonchalantly checking out the new rings and jewelry you had on, which you had bought earlier. Not caring about the fact that you were semi-naked in front of the two.

“Can one of you zip me up?” you spoke, without looking up.

And it took both of them a few seconds to process everything. They shared a look again, filthy things on both their minds.

“I’ll do it.” Steve spoke up before Bucky could even open his mouth and offer to help. The latter glared at his friend. Steve walked up behind you, and gently pushed all your hair out of the way and shifting it over your shoulder while he shamelessly let his eyes roam over your semi-exposed body.

He took his sweet time to find the zipper and closing it gently, letting his fingertips lightly caress your skin. He admired the shape of your body once he was done, Bucky did the same. You walked away from Steve, not even thanking him and went on to admire yourself in the mirror.

The two men couldn’t take their eyes off you as you posed in front of the mirror, checking yourself out and clicking pictures here and there.

“I want a green smoothie.” You said, to no one in particular. But neither of them heard because they were busy checking you out. And seeing they weren’t moving you turned around and faced them. “Hello? I said I want green smoothie.” You said, as usual, in that bratty voice of yours. You had absolutely no patience, you were a total brat.

But that didn’t matter right now. Not when you looked like that; beautiful and enticing, but so out of their league.

Bucky cleared his throat and peeled his eyes off you. “Steve will get it. Someone has to stay here with you.” He made the decision without even sparing Steve a look.

And poor Steve had to agree and leave the room. While Bucky stayed in your room and enjoyed the show as you tried on all the clothes and lingerie you bought earlier today.

You caught Bucky staring at you through the mirror and you internally smirked. You considered yourself lucky that the two bodyguards your dad had appointed were both eye candy. All your friends drooled over both of them; you included.

How could you not? They were always so… hot. Black suits, dark sunglasses whenever you were out, broody and handsome; they could make any one’s heart flutter. You knew how the brat in you annoyed them, but you couldn’t help it. You liked the look on their faces when they realize that they can’t do otherwise but obey you.

Steve returned with your smoothie and you took it, again without thanking him. He noticed you were in another bodysuit, nude colored this time and much more flimsy. He discretely sent a questioning look towards Bucky and the latter smirked and raised his eyebrow at him. As if boasting and saying, ‘yup, I helped her with that one.’

“I’m going to the club later tonight.” You announced and the two men almost groaned out loud.

You were a true party animal. And Steve and Bucky hated your useless, equally as spoilt, friends. Each time you went clubbing, they always had to carry you home because you cannot handle alcohol for too long. And the worst part, they’d have to deal with your hungover self the next day.

Steve couldn’t help but point out. “This is the fifth time in the past three weeks. Are you sure you should be partying so much?” he sounded like he was done with you, but was still trying to be polite because you were still his boss’ daughter.

Bucky nodded, agreeing with his friend. And you frowned at both of them.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but do I pay you to lecture me?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, your action accentuating your breasts.

Steve looked down at the ground, afraid he might have been staring at your chest for too long. “No ma’am.” He replied, hands in front of him – standing in a classic bodyguard pose.

You scoffed, giving them both a look which told them not to mess with you. “Good. We leave at ten thirty.” You announced and walked back into your walk-in closet.

As predicted, you were wasted within the first three hours of being at the club. And just like always, Steve and Bucky had to carry you out and bring you home.

Luckily you didn’t throw up on the sidewalk or in the car this time. Your driver drove all of you home, and Bucky had you on his lap in the backseat, your feet on Steve’s lap. You were blacked out.

“She looks so angelic when she sleeps.” Steve commented, quietly.

Bucky chuckled. “Wait till she wakes up tomorrow and makes everyone’s life a living hell.” Bucky said, remembering the last time you were hungover and how you had him, Steve, your housekeeper, maids and chefs, all run around like headless chickens.

Steve chuckled at the same memory. “I swear if she treats us as her slaves like last time, I’m gonna quit.”

Bucky sent a look towards his friend. “Please don’t, I can’t handle her on my own.” He pretended to shiver at the thought of him having to put up with your antics all on his own.

And the two men shared a laugh.

They put you to bed once you all made it home. They placed you under the covers, the maid took off your shoes and most of your jewelry, took out the pins in your hair and turned the lights off before they stepped out of your room.

---

The next day, the minute they each woke up in their rooms, they heard your loud voice coming from upstairs. And they both groaned as they got ready for the day.

Steve was out of his room and on his way to you first. Bucky came shortly after. And they found you in bed, whining about having a terrible headache.

“Do you need painkillers?” Bucky asked and you glared at him.

“I already took them.” you spat at him.

Clearly you were going to be even more of a bitch today.

“Did you have breakfast?” Steve asked, standing at the end of your bed.

You groaned.

“The thought of food makes me want to throw up.” You whined, testing his patience already.

Steve sighed. “Look, you need to eat. It’s the only way you’ll get rid of the hangover-,”

You cut him off.

“Ugh, okay mom!” you mocked. “Fine, whatever, just get out.” You said rather rudely. And while Steve was still debating what to say to you, Bucky spoke up.

He stepped up closer to you, standing by the side of your bed. “Hey, easy. We’re just trying to help. You need to eat so y-,”

You cut him off as well. “Like I said before, I don’t pay you to lecture me, why do you even-,” you were going off but this time Steve cut you off.

“Enough!” he raised his voice, and both you and Bucky turned to look at him. He had never acted like this before. You could see the irritation on his face as he stared at you.

“You don’t pay us, first of all, your father does! You don’t do anything other than sit there and be a brat and spend his money! We technically don’t work for you, we work for him. So let us do our jobs, which is to take care of his spoilt daughter who has no manners whatsoever. His daughter who treats people like slaves! People who actually care about her more than her own parents do!” He spat, making your jaw drop.

He continued, less loudly this time. “For once, drop your attitude and do as we say. Get in the shower, and then come downstairs. Breakfast will be ready by then.” He looked at you dead in the eyes while he scolded you. “Move, now!” the authority in his voice had you scram out of bed and rush into the bathroom immediately.

Once you shut the bathroom door behind you, Bucky turned to Steve and extended his arm so they could do their secret handshake.

“What was that?” he asked, clearly impressed.

Steve smirked. “Just taming the brat.” He answered.

Bucky laughed. “What if she tells her dad and gets us both fired?” he asked.

Steve knew you would never tell your dad because you would be somewhat ashamed in saying you got blacked out drunk at the club and then were rude to people afterwards. “She won’t.” he said and they both made their way out and into the kitchen.

Breakfast was ready by the time you came downstairs, rather sheepishly. You kept your eyes to the ground as you sat at the kitchen island. Surprisingly, you waited patiently for your breakfast.

Bucky took the plate and placed it in front of you. Baked beans, hash browns, eggs, toast – not your usual breakfast because you normally had sugary cereal in the morning.

You sighed rather loudly, frowned and began complaining, “But this is n-,”

Bucky cut you off by grabbing your chin gently and tilting your head up so you looked up at him. He didn’t even think twice before touching your face, but you didn’t mind it. At all.

You looked up into his ocean blue eyes, very similar to Steve’s.

“A big breakfast will help, trust me. And it’s better than that bowl of sugar you’re used to.” He said, cracking a faint smile. You shyly returned him a smile. “Eat.” He pointed at the plate and went to find Steve in the living room.

You were pretty quiet for the rest of the morning. Quiet as in, you weren’t throwing a fit when the meal that the chef made for you wasn’t what you wanted. Or you weren’t whining about how you hate everyone in this house. Or you weren’t being a bitch to absolutely everyone you saw because you were hungover.

You spent most of the day in your room, sulking. Mainly because you weren’t used to people talking in loud voices at you. Steve and Bucky came to check up on you a few times, asked you if there’s anywhere you need to go. But you said no each time. You barely spoke to them, at least you weren’t rude.

You were tame – but it didn’t last for long.

The next day, you were back to being a brat. Once the hangover passed, you were just as loud and rude as before. You were even rude to Bucky – all your manners from the previous day forgotten – when he came to ask you what you wanted for breakfast.

“Is there a way to ever get a straight answer out of you for once, without you being sarcastic and bratty all the time?” he asked, wishing you were back to yesterday when you were all quiet and obedient.

You scoffed and got out of bed. “You or Steve yell at me one more time, and I will call dad and have both of you fired. You hear me?” you spat at him.

And he wanted to tell you off, like Steve did, but then he took one look at your appearance. Messy hair, your reading glasses on, an oversized white shirt – no pants. You looked too adorable to scold. So he let you go.

You tested Steve’s patience too that day. As usual, people ran your errands and Steve brought you something that you had asked for and you took it without thanking him.

“Will a ‘thank you’ hurt?” he asked.

You glared at him.

“Stop it. You’re not my mom.” You said bitterly and he groaned and walked away.

This had been their daily lives for the past year and a half. And each day they thought there was no way you could out do yourself and be any more of a brat. Yet, each day you kept surprising them with how annoying you could be to deal with.

Then one day, you truly out did yourself.

You were nowhere to be found.

“This is it, I’m calling her dad.” Steve took out his phone but Bucky stopped him.

“She’s our responsibility, calling her dad would be equivalent to digging our own graves. Don’t.” Bucky reasoned. He couldn’t even imagine calling a parent to tell them their child has gone missing.

They were both panicking. You had snuck out earlier in the afternoon, and it was now nighttime and you still weren’t back. The two were pacing around the living room.

“I don’t get it, usually she tells us before even going outside in the yard.” Bucky was trying to figure out what must’ve gone wrong.

Steve sighed, ready to punch something out of frustration. “She acts like such a child sometimes. Can’t even track her phone because she left it here.” He shook his head.

“It’s nearly midnight Steve, she should be back by now. We need to do something. Did you get anything from the camera footage?” Bucky was worried sick – both about your safety and his job.

Steve swore under his breath. “Nothing on there. I mean we don’t even know if she went out on her own or got kidnapped or some-,”

A voice cut him off.

“Chill moms, I’m fine.” You walked into the living room with a smirk on. And the two men looked at you like they were witnessing some miracle. Bucky was relieved, yet somewhat irritated. Steve was just angry.

“Where the hell have you been? You were missing for 8 hours!” Bucky asked, the smug look on your face was beginning to piss him off.

You didn’t bother answering, you walked right past them and into the kitchen. The two, now irritated, followed you.

“Answer, god damn it! Where have you been? We were worried sick!” Steve hissed.

You took a water bottle out of the fridge and took a long sip while looking at them both with nothing but cockiness in your eyes.

“Well good news, I was so annoying and bratty that the kidnappers dropped me right back home.” You fake smiled, obviously being sarcastic and walked out of the kitchen. You heard the two groaned as you left them in the kitchen.

You rushed upstairs and went right into your bedroom, and not even a few seconds later – they both walked into your room very angrily and without even bothering to knock first.

You sighed. “Get out. I’m tired, I need to sleep.” You spoke, without looking up at them.

“I don’t think so. Now answer me, where the fuck have you been?” Bucky asked, clearly mad.

You chuckled. “Watch your tone with me.” You sassed.

Steve stepped forward and walked right up to you. He stood closer to you than usual, invading your personal space. But you didn’t mind it one bit.

“Or what, huh?” he asked, sliding his hand into your hair gently, tugging on it a little making your head tilt back so you looked up at him.

You were speechless as you looked up into his ocean blue eyes. Mainly because you weren’t expecting this, but also because the look on his face sent a tingle dancing down your spine, and ended right at your core. Definitely not a bad tingle.

When you recovered, you were about to lift your hand up and slap his hand away from you but then you realized that Bucky was behind you, locking your wrists in his grip behind your back.

“Let’s try that again, sweetheart. Where have you been?” Bucky whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear and making you shiver.

You looked up at Steve, immobilized and not hating it. “I… I was out with my girlfriends.” You confessed and almost whimpered when bucky tightened his grip around your wrists.

“And what did we say about sneaking out, or going anywhere without informing us?” Steve asked. You believed it might have been your imagination, but it felt as though he leaned in a little, bringing his face closer to yours.

It took you a few seconds to process given the proximity of the two men was interrupting your ability to think straight. “You… you said it was against the rules.” You remember that long talk you had with both of them the day they joined. When they took the time to explain the rules to you but all you did was roll your eyes at them and sigh.

Bucky chuckled darkly right in your ear. “Seems you have broken an important rule, sweetheart.” He gently kissed the skin beneath your ear and your eyes flew shut. Your lips parted as you tried hard not to moan at the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.

When you opened your eyes, you found Steve smirking down at you. He felt a rush course through him and leaned in to gently take your lower lip between his teeth; tugging on it playfully. His actions were gentle, but you shivered still. Steve bit down on your lip, while Bucky discretely kissed down your neck.

Then and there, something shifted in the air. It was a pleasant shift.

Steve chuckled against your mouth. “You never learn, babygirl.” he mumbled, against the side of your mouth. And the nickname had you almost whimpering.

Bucky softly nibbled on your skin at your shoulder; making you shudder. Steve tugged a little more on your hair and pulled away to look at you. If there’s anything you knew for sure in that moment, is that you wanted them. Both of them. Bad.

“Teach me then.” You whispered. And both of them smirked and shared a look.

If only you had been careful about what you wished for…

You were kneeling on your bed, naked and with Bucky still holding your wrists behind your back. His grip was tight and strong, but you didn’t complain. You couldn’t because Steve had his two fingers gently pumping in and out of your mouth.

He had searched your bedside table a few minutes ago, and pulled out the vibrator wand which you had hidden in there. You wondered how he knew it was there. But before you could think over it too much, he turned it on and placed it in between your legs; right on top of your entrance.

You whined in pleasure, but he quickly shut you up by pushing his fingers past your lips. “Always whining like a brat.” He commented, smirking and wiggling the wand a little and making you whine louder. And to add on to your sweet torture, Bucky circled his arm around you and gently circled your clit with his two fingers.

“What is it babygirl, you can’t take it?” Steve taunted again.

You whimpered under their touch, but something told you that they wouldn’t let you have your way so easily this time.

“I know you’ve never heard ‘no’ in your life, sweetheart. But you will tonight.” Bucky murmured in your ear, making you tilt your head back; shivering against him.

Steve chuckled, removing his fingers from your warm mouth. “You’re not allowed to cum until you have our permission, babygirl. You hear me?”

You nodded and whimpered a pathetic yes.

Your thighs began trembling as they both messed with you. Steve changed the setting on the wand, making it more intense while Bucky tilted your head back and kissed you deeply. More like invaded your mouth like he owned it; pushing his tongue past your lips and stroking the top of your mouth. You whimpered, happily trapped between the two of them.

You felt the pressure forming in between your legs, and you involuntarily bucked your hips against the vibrator, trying desperately to chase your orgasm. Steve noticed, and he didn’t think twice before lifting the vibrator off you – denying you your release.

You groaned louder, the sound muffled by Bucky’s mouth on top of yours. He pulled away from the kiss and chuckled. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it baby?” he asked, softly. You looked up at him and nodded. His soft demeanor went away the minute you agreed. “Well that’s exactly how it feels when you don’t listen.” He growled leaning in again. You thought he was going to kiss you again, but instead he licked your swollen lower lip and spat into your open mouth.

His actions elicited a loud whine out of you.

“Look at me.” Steve slid his hands into your hair again and tugged on it. You looked at him with nothing but desire in your eyes. He let go of your hair and gripped your jaw while he placed the vibrator back against your core. You felt the vibrations all over your body, a familiar warmth washing over you while you stared into his icy blue eyes.

“Always boasting about your family’s money and power, you little brat.” Steve whispered, leaning in to bite your mouth again while he pressed the vibrator further against your core, making you drip and moan louder. “Who’s your daddy now, huh?”

Bucky fingers found your clit again, and they teased you just like before. “Tell us baby, who owns this bratty little cunt?” Bucky whispered menacingly in your ear, biting on your ear lobe.

You moaned again, both at the sensations and the words. “You do…” you breathed out, unable to form coherent sentences. They both chuckled, and continued their sweet torture on your body. Steve kissed along your jaw as he wiggled the wand around and make you scream louder, while Bucky’s fingers rubbed your clit furiously.

And you couldn’t take it anymore. “Can I-… please…” you begged and it was the first time they heard you ask for something so politely.

“What was that, babygirl?” Steve asked, pretending that he didn’t hear you the first time. And seeing you weren’t answering, he lifted the vibrator off you again. “I said, what was that?” he asked again, more sternly.

You whined and whimpered at being denied again. “Please… please can I cum?” you asked again, begging with your eyes shut to stop the tears of frustration from falling.

Bucky immediately wrapped a hand around your throat and tilted your head back. “Ask nicely sweetheart. Say ‘please daddy, I’ll be a good girl from now.’“ he mumbled against the side of your mouth.

Steve increased the intensity of the vibrator again and it made you repeat Bucky’s words wantonly. They were both pleased at your obedience, but not quite done with you yet.

“Look at me, babygirl.” For a moment, Steve’s voice had you fooled. You thought he was actually going to give in and would actually let you cum. “You want to cum for daddy?” he asked, and you nodded with hot tears falling down your cheeks. And just when you thought you were getting closer to your release, he lifted the wand off your body again.

“No. You will not cum until you’ve learnt your lesson.”

They both toyed with your body like they owned it. They switched places and Bucky had the most fun in teasing you with the vibrator. He trailed it up and down your body, circling your erected nipples with the tip of the wand and then back down to where you craved it the most.

Tears streamed down your face.

“Are you crying, baby? Good, this would teach you not to be a brat next time,” Bucky spoke as he wiggled the toy around against your wet folds.

You begged them relentlessly, but they denied you each time. Looking you deep in the eyes and saying, ‘No.’ Yet, a twisted part of you liked how they treated you like they owned you. Like you were nothing but a toy to them, for them to play with as they pleased.

Your pleas were incessant, and wanton. Steve pushed two of his fingers past your entrance while Bucky placed the wand right on your clit – unmoving. Steve’s fingers stroked your walls so slowly that it was almost agonizing.

“Aww you’re dripping all over my hand, babygirl.” He commented, making you squeeze around his fingers. Your arousal leaked out of you, coating the tip of the toy and his fingers alike. He could see what they were both doing to you, and he liked the control they both had over you. “Look at how you’re shaking.” He taunted again.

You begged again, to no one in particular. And the reply was just as disappointing as earlier. “No. Spoilt brats with no manners don’t get to cum so easily.”

And you whined again.

“Shh, you’re gonna take all that we give you. And you’re not gonna be a brat about it, you understand?” Steve silenced you.

Bucky gripped your jaw and kissed you deeply again, swallowing your pathetic moans while he pressed the wand further against you. Your body trembled, you moaned as soon as the vibrating tip came in contact with your sensitive spot. Your body shuddered as he wiggled it around just a bit. The sensation was overwhelming.

“Do you want us to stop, babygirl?” Steve mumbled in your ear, his fingers slipping in and out of you and the wet sounds were obscene.

You shook your head and Bucky pulled away to let you talk. “No, no please… don’t stop…” the last thing you wanted was for them to leave you here, frustrated and burning with desire.

Unfortunately, that’s exactly what they did.

“Well guess what, sweetheart? You don’t get to make the rules this time. You can’t always have what you want.” Bucky smirked as he lifted off the wand from you and turned it off.

Steve chuckled and kissed your neck, releasing your sore wrists. “Good night, babygirl.” They both stood up from your bed, leaving you naked, whimpering, and tear-stained, burning with need and most of all; dripping wet.

Your body was worn out, after being with them for the past hour or two. Or maybe more, you couldn’t tell because you were a little disoriented. But you couldn’t believe that they were just walking away from you, without giving you what you so desperately wanted.

“And don’t you dare touch yourself.” Bucky said, before he walked out of your room.

Steve took a good look at you; what a beautiful mess he and Bucky had made. “See you tomorrow.” He winked before he shut the door behind him.

---

a/n: fear not, there’s a part 2 coming soon ;)

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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

��Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

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